Stop Kiss  Hetalia
by MajikkuNeko-Chan
Summary: Gilbert just moved to New York and needed someone to take care of Gilbird for him. That's where Feliks comes in, giving Gilbird a place to live, and his owner a friend in the big city.    Based on Diana Son's play, "Stop Kiss"
1. Chapter 1

**Stop Kiss - Hetalia**

This is based on the play "Stop, Kiss" by Diana Son. The dialouge is pretty much the script, I just added all the action, just like a director would do with a play. I also changed character names and genders.

Poland + Prussia, Mentions: Lithuania, Russia, Czech (OC), Hungary

WARNINGS: Real names

**CHAPTER 1**

Feliks's apartment is a mess, clean but cluttered. Every flat surface is covered with stuff. And he knows where everything is by instict if nothing else. He has no reason to clean up, no one ever comes over, they always go to Toris' apartment on thier fling nights.

Feliks keys up a new playlist on his computer, and _Best of My Love_ starts playing as he gets up closing all the blinds before the vocals start. He lip-syncs along with the polish of someone who does private karaoke frequently.

_Doesn't take much to make me happy  
and make me smile_

As he sings he takes his bowl to the sink and washes his dinner dishes.

_Never never will I feel discouraged  
Cause our love's no mystery  
Demonstrating love and affection  
That you give so openly yeah  
I like the way ya make me about you baby  
Want the whole wide world to see_

_Whoa whoa, you got the best of my love  
Whoa whoa, you got the best of my love_

Just as Feliks gets to to the chorus the phone rings, and he jumps to turn off the music like a busted teenager.

"Hi Toris...yeah I know I'm, like, late, I totally forgot this person is coming to my house at -" Feliks checks his stylish watch, "shit!...Well I would, totally, bring him along but I, like, don't even know him. He's a friend of an old friend of someone I used to be frie- He just, like, moved to the city and I said that I'd - I can't, what if he's some big dud and we all have a miserable time... Exactly, you'll all blame me. Give me half an hour, tops." Just as Feliks hangs up the phone, his buzzer goes off. He dashes to press the speaker button.

"Yes?"

Through the little box came a cocky voice, "It's Gilbert and -"

"Come on up." Feliks cut him off, pushing the button that unlocks the front door. He looks around his appartment, suddenly seeing the mess which includes dirty socks, newspapers, Kleenex, his mail, several DVDs and a bra. He picks up the bra and shoots it into the bedroom just as the doorbell rings. He skips to the door and opens it, revealing a slightly taller man with white hair and red eyes holding a pet carrier.

"Hi" Feliks says, feeling stupid.

"You're Feliks."

"Yes."

"I'm Gilbert, and this is Gilbird." The taller man says, nodding to the carrier, "I can't believe you're doing this."

Feliks motions to the couch, "Please uh sit-" cutting himself off as he notices the mess residing on the couch in question.

"Some appartment."

"I was cleaning." The blond says, as he pushes a pile of stuff off the couch onto the floor in the corner.

"It's huge-and the neighborhood-" Gilbert says nonchalantly, hiding his amazement behind his usual cocky attatude, and sits on the couch mindless of the mess.

Seeing where he sat, Feliks says, "You can't be comfortable."

"Oh I am."

"Are you sure?" Feliks counters, eyebrow cocked.

"Very."

"I'm just-...let me get rid of this stuff." Feliks stammers, grabbing an armful of junk and heads into the bedroom. As soon as he clears the room, Gilbert pulls a large key ring of sharp pointy keys and a candle out from under himself with a grimace. He hides the candle among the junk on the floor and places the keys inconspicuously on the coffee table, under a month old newspaper. He then clears some space on the couch so that Feliks can sit when he returns.

"Coffee!" Feliks calls from the bedroom door as he enters, holding a can of the stuff which he apparently found in the bedroom.

Blink. "-would be great. Listen, this is so nice of you-" Glibert tracked the perky blond as he passed into the kitchen area and started the coffee.

"I was thinking about getting a cat anyway. This'll totally give me a chance to see if I can hack it." Feliks responded, brushing off the thanks, while putting some water on to boil.

"That's how I feel about New York."

"Oh yes."

"How long have you been here?" Gilbert asks as he gets up and joins Feliks in the kitchen.

"Eleven years." Was the response, as Feliks was measuring the proper amount of coffee grounds into the French Press he used for coffee.

"I lived in St. Louis my whole life. My parents live like, half an hour away. I go there for dinner when it's not even anybody's birthday. Things there - it's been, it is so -"

"Easy?"

"So easy."

"It's hard here."

"Good - _great_, I can't wait." Gilbert exlaimed.

"Yeah, you uh- what do you...do?" Feliks paused while reaching for a couple of coffee mugs.

"I teach. Third grade." Gilbert said.

"Well it won't be hard finding a job." Feliks said after getting over the fact that this cocky man was a teacher, he didn't look like a teacher, ripped jeans and a band t-shirt didn't seem like a third grade teacher's uniform.

"I already have one." Gilbert smirked.

"Where?"

"P.S. 32 in the Bronx."

"What was the school like that you came from?" Felix asked, waiting for the water to boil.

"Society of Friends, a Quaker school."

This caught Feliks off-guard and he burst into laughter, trying to picture this man who seemed like he stepped off of a punk rock CD cover, teaching in a Quaker school. "I'm, like, not...I'm, totally, not laughing at you, I'm laughing around..."

"It's obviously - It's _very_... but I can do good work there." Gilbert shrugged off the pole's response.

"I'm sure you're a good teacher." Feliks said in appology.

"No you don't know, but I am."

There was a awkward pause as the water came to a boil and Feliks poured it into the decanter with the grounds and placed the lid on. Feliks just had to fill the silence, "Where in the Bronx?"

"Tremont." Was the short reply, Gilbert seemed lost in thought.

"Is that where...Taft, is it Taft?" The blonde said, remembering something from the news awhile back.

"Taft High School?"

"You've heard of it?" Feliks asked, checking on the coffee, determining that it was ready.

"Mm hm." Was the pensive response.

Feliks just continued, not realizing that his guest was disturbed by the topic, "You know there was a guy who taught there, this rich white guy-"

"Yes I know." Gilbert cut him off.

There was a pause as Feliks poured their coffee into the mismatched mugs.

"He got killed-" Feliks started, not able to give up that topic.

"By a student. I'm here on a fellowship set up in his name." Gilbert interrupted the blonde, giving a little insight into his pensiveness.

"How long is the fellowship?"

"Two years."

Feliks hands one of the coffee mugs to Gilbert, "Well, congratulations -"

"Thank you." Gilbert said, accepting the mug.

"Best of luck-" Gilbert just nods, "and ... if it gets too rough - like, go home."

Feliks touches his mug to Gilbert's, but Gilbert doesn't move, just staring into the black liquid.

"What brought you to New York?" Gilbert asked quietly.

Feliks takes a big breath, preparing for the long and interesting story that he then realizes that he doesn't have, instead giving the short, truth, "College."

"And what keeps you?"

"Keeps me from what?"

"What do you _do?_"

"I...ruin things for everyone else." Feliks shrugs and moves toward the couch, seeking someplace to sit down.

"You're Rudolph Giuliani?" Gilbert snorted into his coffee.

Feliks threw a look over his sholder, "I'm a traffic reporter for a twenty-four-hour news radio station."

"Helicopters!" Gilbert said, coming out of his slump, and looking impressed.

"The inbound land at the Holland Tunnel is closed due to a car accident," Feliks mimed, using his coffee mug as a microphone, "The Brooklyn-bound land of the Williamsburg Bridge is under construction through 2012. The D Train is not running due to a track fire. You can't get in. You can't get out. You can't get around. I'll be back in ten minutes to tell you that nothing has changed."

"Does that get to you?" Gilbert asks as he walks over to the window.

Feliks shrugs, "It's a living." And plops down on the couch.

Gilbert sips his coffee and finally takes a good look at the apartment. "How long have you lived in this appartment?"

"Five years - well, two by myself - it's a funny - not haha - story." Feliks says, interupting himself.

"It's okay." The taller man said, shrugging as if to tell the blonde that he didn't have to tell.

"I moved in here with my boyfriend, Ivan. This was his aunt's appartment, she lived here for twenty years." 

"Your rent must be-"

"Lucky."

"_You_ are."

"Well, I got the apartment, he got ... my sister." Feliks said, full of hurt.

"Oh."

"They live in LA now. It's perfect." Feliks said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Well at least i don't mean to be crass but-" Gilbert said tentativly.

"Yes, no, well I ... like the apartment." Feliks answered, not quite sure of his answer.

"It's as big as mine and I'm sharing it with two other people."

"Are they - Did you...move here with any of them?" Feliks asked of the man who was now leaning on the back of the couch.

"No, they came with the appartment. They're a couple. It's kinda awkward but, he's sweet, she's sweet, they seem to have a -" Gilbert describes whistfully.

"-Sweet?" Feliks interjects, with a grin.

"-relationshipthey'refine." Gilbert finishes embarsed.

Feliks nods, "It's awkward."

"Rents are so - Everything is so-"

"It's impossible to live here." Feliks confirms. Gilbert takes the moment to study Feliks, realizing something about the vivacious blonde.

"_You love it._"

"You know, Gilbert, I've actually been to St. Louis and it's a quaint, pretty city but - what's the point of that? Everyone's still got their cars all geared up with Clubs and car alarms and computerized keys. And you have to drive all the way across town to get to the good cheap placed to eat. And _drive_ I mean you're in a city and you have to _drive_ to get around?" Feliks starts calm but it grows into almost a rant, and _drive_ is almost a swear word.

"Where did you grow up?"

"Tiny town upstate."

"Industrial?"

"Countrified suburb. Tractor display in the middle of the mall." Feliks said with a smirk.

"Pretty, though?" Gilbert asked, trying to place the pieces.

"I can't connect with mountains, trees, the little animals - they snub me. You know how you can be with two other people and you're all having a great time. Then the person sitting next to you says something in French and the two of them burst in laughter, best laugh anyone's had all night. And you're left out because you took Spanish in the seventh grade, not French. That's what nature does to me. Speaks French to the other people at the table." While Feliks is speaking, Gilbert sneaks around and sits in the space on the couch he cleared earlier.

"I hate jazz."

"_You_ do?" Feliks asks, puzzled by this nonsequitor.

"I don't usually say that out loud because then people think I don't have a soul or something but I don't like the way it sounds. I don't like saxophones." Gilbert explained.

"My sister played the saxophone."

"I'm sorry -"

"I hate my sister."

"The one who-"

"Yeah."

"I hate your sister too."

Feliks smiles, really smiles at Gilbert, who slowly mirrors the blonde. Gilbert realizing that they're smiling at eachother after a moment, and he looks away embarsed.

"So, do your friends thing you're crazy?" Feliks asked the other man, to break the tension.

"Pff. Forget it. And my _parents_ and Elizabeth."

"Huh?"

"-my ex. I mean I've never lived away from them. Even when I was in college I came home every weekend." The white-haired man revealed.

"Close family." Feliks remarked, taking one last swig of his coffee.

"It's..." He pauses searching for the right word, "a cult. It's embarrasssing. I should've moved...I mean, you were what, eighteen?"

"Don't look at me. I was goingt to go to one of thoes colleges that advertise on matchbook covers. My guidance counselor filled out my application to NYU." Feliks shrugged off the admiration.

"I had to interview five times to get this fellowship. By the fourth one I had a rabbit's foot, rosary beads, crystals, a tiger's tooth and a Polynesian _tiki_ all in my bag-now that I got this fellowship I have every god to pay." Gilbert explained. Upon hearing this Feliks began digging into one of the piles under the coffee table, extracting a Magic 8 Ball, which he hands to Gilbert.

"What should I ask it?" Gilbert asks the blonde.

"Something whose answer you won't take too seriously?" Always the pragmatist.

Gilberts says to the ball, "Was moving to New York a good idea?" and gives it a good shake, puzzled by the result, "It's sort of in between two of them."

"That means yes." The pair exchange another smile. Then Gilbert stands up, stretching.

"I should go, I'm taking up too much of your-"

Feliks looks at his watch. "I told some friends I would meet them, otherwise I wish-"

"You should've said-"

"No-No-"

"I didn't mean to keep-"

"What're you doing this weekend?" Feliks finally asked.

"I don't know. Unpacking. But then I gotta do something New Yorky, don't I?" Gilbert responded with his cocky grin.

"Do you want to come over and I'll take you around the neighborhood? Show you some fun places to go to and eat-"

"Yes!"

"An you can hang out here, spend some time with... is it Gilbird?"

Gilbert rushed to the carrier, suprised that he forgot about his cat, "Gilbird, forgive me. He hates being in this thing."

"Let him out."

Gilbert opens the door, "He may be a little shy at first, in a new place with a new person-"

"You could come and visit him. Just let me know. I hope you'll feel-"

"Thanks, Feliks." Gilbert said, hugging the smaller man.

"For nothing, for what." Feliks said, incoherently into the other man's shoulder. Gilbert released him and exited, leaving the blonde standing in the middle of his apartment with a gray tabby staring at him with eyes that read, 'Feed me!'

**END CHAPTER 1**

**AN: **Gilbird is a cat, named Gilbird. I don't know why, he just is.

Feliks used to date Ivan. But they broke up and Ivan married Poland's sister (Czech)


	2. Chapter 2

**Stop Kiss - Hetalia**

This is based on the play "Stop, Kiss" by Diana Son. The dialouge is pretty much the script, I just added all the action, just like a director would do with a play. I also changed character names and genders.

Poland / Prussia, England

WARNINGS: Real names

**CHAPTER 2**

It was a stark place, the hospital examination room that Feliks now sat in, buttoning the last few buttons on his shirt. The blonde detective standing in front of him had enough eyebrows for three people, Feliks thought to himself. The detective had introduced himself as Detective Kirkland, but Feliks didn't want to remember anything at that moment.

"Was he coming on to you, trying to pick you up?" The detective asked, a slight English accent flavoring his speech.

"He was just saying stuff, guy stuff, stupid kind of-" Feliks responded, his voice dead like he didn't want to remember the stuff the detective was forcing him to.

"What did you do?" Bushy-brows continued.

"I-I wanted to leave-" Feliks crossed his arms over his stomach protectively.

"Your boyfriend?"

"My friend-Gilbert...said...something-"

"What."

"'Leave us alone' or something." Feliks dragged from his memory.

"And that's what set him off?"

"N-n-yeah. Well, Gil said - but then they guy said something back and Gil told him ... he said something - upset the guy." Feliks said almost uncoherently.

"What'd Mr. Beilschmidt say?"

"He sai-I think-" Feliks mumbled.

"What." The detective was starting to get impatient.

"Gil told him to fuck off." Feliks stated, amazement tinging his mostly vacent voice, "Then the guy hit Gil."

"He hit Mr. Beilschmidt with his fist?"

"He hit Gil in his back then the guy grabbed Gil away-" Feliks voice started to reflect the panic that he'd felt when it happened.

"Grabbed Mr. Beilschmidt from you?"

"I-I was holding on to Gil's arm with my hand like this-" Feliks grabs his own elbow to illustrate, "I wanted us to leave. But then the guy grabbed Gil and started banging Gil's head against the building. And then he smashed Gil's head against his knee - like one of those wrestlers - that's when Gil lost consciousness - and then the guy smashed Gil again." Feliks folds his arms over his stomach again, remembering the fear he felt. Detective Kirkland added some notes to his report, and noticed some things he wanted to check again.

"This was at Bleecker and West 11th - that little park." The detective stated, not really a question.

"Yes." Feliks vowed to himself that he would never go back there ever again.

"At four-fifteen in the morning?"

"Yes."

"What were you doing there?"

Feliks shakes his head as if to clear it alittle, "Just...walking around."

"Which bar were you at?" Detective Kirkland cut to the chase.

"Excuse me?" Feliks' eyes popped up to meet the eyes below those forests of eyebrows.

"Four-fifteen, that's closing time."

Feliks, caught in the detective's logic, responded, "Well we had been...we were at the White Horse Tavern."

"The White Horse. On Hudson Street." The detective confirmed.

"Yes."

"Was there a good crowd there?"

"...Yeah? Pretty crowded."

"Did anyone at the White Horse try to pick you up, buy you or your friend a drink?"

"No."

"Did you talk to anyone?"

"Just to each other mostly." Feliks cracked a tiny smile, remembering their conversation.

"What did the bartender look like?"

"Excuse me?" Feliks asked, coming out of his reverie.

"Bartender."

"...It was a man."

"Short, stocky guy? Salt and pepper hair?" The detective supplied, obviously describing one of the bartenders at the bar.

"No." 

"Kind of tall, skinny guy with a receding hairline? I know a couple of guys there."

"I didn't really get a good look at him-," Feliks admitted, "Gil ordered the drinks. But I think he was tall."

"I'll go talk to him." Detective Kirkland said, glad to be getting somewhere, "Could be someone followed you from the bar. Maybe there was someone suspicious acting that you didn't notice. Bartender might of seen something you didn't or talked to someone. What'd the bad guy look like?"

"He was tall."

"Like the bartender."

"He was slender - sort of, like he swam." Feliks pushed himself to try to remember what he'd rather forget.

"Was he black?" Feliks shook his head. "Hispanic?"

"It was dark, I couldn't-"

"Short hair, long hair-" The detective prompted.

"Long. Wavy, blonde." The detail stood out in Feliks' mind.

"You remember what he was wearing?"

Finally a subject that Feliks could remember, "He had a leather jacket...jeans...some kind of boots. He was twentysomething, maybe mid."

"Like a college kid? Frat boy?"

"No."

"Like a punk?"

"No."

"Like what then?"

Feliks took a moment to try to place it, "...I don't know."

"Any markings on the jacket? A name or symbol?"

"No."

"So he sees a good-looking couple walking - were you drunk?"

"Not at all."

"-he gives a line to the 'girl'" Detective Kirkland glances at Feliks, who just shrugs it off, "the guy tells him to fuck off and he beats the guy into a coma. Anything else you want to tell me?" The Detective summed up the story, hoping that the smaller man would add to the story.

"That's-that's what I...remember."

"Doctor done with you?"

"I think."

"Allright, I need you to go somewhere with me right now and look at some pictures."

"Can you bring them here?" Feliks asserting himself for the first time with the detective.

"I need to take you there."

"Because, my friend-if my friend..." Feliks' voice trembled with worry.

"They say he's out of the woods in terms of life or-" Detective Kirkland says reasuringly.

"But if he wakes up-" Feliks interupted the detective.

**END CHAPTER 2**

**AN:** The original scenes in the play are non-linear in time. I decided to honor that in my story. This is the first part of the second part really, you didn't miss anything.


	3. Chapter 3

**Stop Kiss - Hetalia**

This is based on the play "Stop, Kiss" by Diana Son. The dialouge is pretty much the script, I just added all the action, just like a director would do with a play. I also changed character names and genders.

Poland + Prussia, Mentions: Lithuania, Belarus, Finland, Sweden, Denmark, Norway, Estonia, Hungary

WARNINGS: Real names

**CHAPTER 3**

Feliks and Gilbert had just returned from getting coffee at Feliks' favorite little cafe and expoloring the neighborhood.

"I mean that's the way I am with the kids." Gilbert was telling stories about his students. Feliks takes his jacket and hangs it up on the rack next to the door.

"Sure, with kids it's okay." Feliks responds over his shoulder as the white-haired man went to sit down on the now junk free couch.

"Why just them?" Gilbert asked, as he slumped down on the couch, "Listen, every day when I walk by this park this guy, he's all cracked out, says something to me, you know, something nasty and I just lower my head and walk by."

"Yep." Feliks joined him on the couch.

"But yesterday, one of my students, Natalia, is waiting for me outside the school and says she wants to walk me to the subway. So I say, 'Sure,' thinking she has a problem she wants to tell me about. So we're walking and we pass by the park and I'm worried. 'Is this crackhead gonna mention my penis in front of this eight-year-old girl?' Sure enough, it's 'dick this' and 'balls that' and Natalia says, 'This is my teacher, watch your mouth.' An the guy shuts up."

"Still-"

"Freaking eight-year-old girl. I should be able to do that for myself." Gilbert was agitated, talking with his hands.

"The best thing to do is walk on by." Feliks said, speaking into his hands.

"But it worked." Suddenly, the phone rings. Gilbert looks at the phone, but Feliks remains staring at his hands.

"Next time, just walk on by." Feliks looks at Gilbert, his eyes vacent as if remembering something he doesn't want to.

"Why, what's ever happened to you?" Gilbert asked, concerned for his new friend.

"Nothing and that's why." Feliks' answering machine clicks on, answering the phone.

"Hey Feliks, it's Toris. Your light is on, I know you're there. Tino and Berwald and I are at the Sinatra bar, where are you?" Feliks moves like he's about to pick up the phone, but stops himself. "Anyways, we'll be here for a while, so some hang out. 'Bye." Toris hung up the phone, and the answering machine clicks off.

Gilbert says, "I should go," moving like he's about to get up. Feliks grabs his arm.

"No no, they'll be there for hours."

"I've taken up your whole-" Gilbert protested.

"Are you hungry?" Feliks said, suddenly peppy, "We could order something. There's Polish, Indian, Cuban, there's a pretty good Vietnamese-"

"Are you sure you don'-"Gilbert said talking over the blond, then interupting himself, "I've never had Vietnamese-"

"I'll show you the menu." Feliks popped up, heading to the kitchen, "Something to drink? Beer?"

"Yes to beer." Gilbert said with a chuckle. A moment later, Feliks returns with two beers, and hands one to Gilbert. Gilbert nods toward the phone, "Were those friends from work?"

"Oh no, the people at my job are a bunch of stiffs-can you imagine?" Feliks said as he sat back on the couch, taking a swig from his beer, "They listen to the same news reports every ten minutes for eight hours a day. They repeat themselves even in regular conversations. No, Toris - the guy on the phone - Tino, Berwald...Matthias, Lukas, Eduard - we were all friends in college and now we're stuck to each other. I think we're someone's science experiment, we just don't know it. A study in overdependency."

"Is Toris your boyfriend?" Gilbert had the decency to look a little embaresed as he asked. Feliks let him stew a moment as he handed the take-out menu to him.

"I like the noodle dishes, they're on the back." Feliks takes another swig from his beer, "Toris and I ...are friends. Who sleep together. But date other people. Sometimes for long periods of time. We've been doing this since we were...twenty. Although he never likes anyone I'm dating, he's unabashedly- and I admit I can get jelous when he's- but at least I try to hide it, I'm pretty good at it too. It's only after they've broken up that I-Anyway, we'd probably get married." Gilbert grabs the Magic 8 ball off of the coffee table, giving it a shake. He raised his eyebrow at the result, and looked at Feliks. "You know if it were legal in this country."

"It's stuck between two again." Gilbert explained.

"Why's that keep happening to you?" Feliks laughed.

"Me? I think you have it rigged." Feliks grabs the ball from him, giving it his own shake. It is once again between answers. Gilbert trys to get a look, but Feliks flips it back onto the table before he can.

Feliks admits defeat, "Okay, okay."

Gilbert leaned back against the couch, "All my friends are married or getting engaged, having babies or wishing they were - and lately when I hear about it, I think - why?"

"Why not?" Feliks asked.

"Marriage. Why would you say to anyone, 'I will stay with you even if I outgrow you.'" Gilbert took a big swig of his beer.

It took Feliks a moment to remember something from their first meeting, "Elizabeth," he said, in a low voice. It seemed like a whole minute before Gilbert nodded. "Did you leave her to come here?"

"...No." was the reluctant, but honest response.

"Mm...C-"

"In what?" Gilbert asked, caught off guard.

"Acting." Gilbert looked away from the piercing green gaze burrowing into his head. "Sorry," Feliks appologized.

"No no-"

"I'm prying-"

"No, that's not why-" 

"I hope I didn't-"

"No, it's okay." Gilbert asserted, catching the green eyes again.

"Did you decide what you wanted to order?" Feliks asked, trying to change the topic and devert the eerie red eyes from his own.

"I moved out from our appartment - we lived together - and moved in with my parents about a month ago. I came here from there." Gilbert wouldn't let the blond out of knowing the truth he asked for.

"How-how long?"

"Seven years."

"_Seven_... so you must still be-"

"-Finally." Gilbert interupted, "Finally where I want to be. I'll stay in New York for two years and then I'm going to take off."

"Let me guess: India." Feliks laughed.

"A for effort, but no. Australia, Malaysia, Indonesia, Micronesia-"

"All the countries that sound like skin rashes?" Feliks continued to laugh.

"Lizzy said, 'What about Anesthesia?' What time is it?" Gilbert asked.

"Almost six." Feliks answered after checking his watch.

"Hm."

"What?"

"Oh, she left a message on my machine saying he was going to call at six. She wants to come visit. She manages a restaurant in St. Louis so she wants to come and check out some of the special places here." Gilbert explained, not getting up.

"You'd better hurry."

"I couldn't make it in fifteen minutes."

"You could if you took a cab." Feliks countered.

Gilbert mentally chewed on that, trying to form a counter arguement, "But then I wouldn't have Vietnamese food."

"We could do it another time."

"I just started this beer." Gilbert said, nailing the last pin in the arguement.

"You wouldn't want to waste a beer."

"That's what I was thinking."

"Cheers." As they clink bottles, a loud rhythmic clomping sound starts eminating from the ceiling, startling Gilbert. Feliks doesn't seem to notice, pointing to an item on the menu, "I always get this. It's not to spicy."

"What is that?" Gilbert asked, looking at the ceiling.

"Crispy squid in a little salt and -"

"No, what is _that?_"

"Huh?" Feliks asked, not getting it at first, "Oh. Every Thursday and Saturday at six."

"What." 

"I think he teaches horses how to riverdance." Which is exactly what it sounds like, although it's probably a workout of some sort.

"Have you complained?"

"It happens at exactly the same time twice a week for an hour. I just make sure I'm out or doing something loud." Feliks explained with a shrug.

Gilbert jumped up, "Let's go up there."

"No, no -"

"Why not?"

"We gotta stay here and wait for the food."

"We haven't ordered it yet."

"Yeah so what do you want?" Feliks asked as he reached for the phone.

"Chicken." 

"What kind of chicken?"

"You're chicken."

"No I'm not. I'm smart."

"Allright, I'll go." Gilbert gave up on trying to get Feliks to come with him and turned toward the door. Feliks grabbed after him.

"Gilbert. Come on, don't. Please." Feliks pleaded, letting his green eyes meet Gilbert's red ones.

"Okay."

"I'm gonna order. What do you want?"

"Come on, let's go!" Gilbert dashed out the door, Feliks chasing him once he realized what Gilbert was going to do.


	4. Chapter 4

**Stop Kiss - Hetalia**

This is based on the play "Stop, Kiss" by Diana Son. The dialouge is pretty much the script, I just added all the action, just like a director would do with a play. I also changed character names and genders.

England, Canada, Mentions: Poland / Prussia, Ukraine

WARNINGS: Real names, language

Remember that even chapters are the secondary timeline.

**CHAPTER 4**

The interview room at the police station was a stark room, not meant to offer comfort for the people there. The slightly built, blonde man sitting at the table could feel this, although it could be the cold demeaner of the detective that was sitting on the other side of the table. Matthew Williams felt constrained by tailored suit that he was wearing.

He loosed his tie a micron and responded to the previous question, "He called them shit-packing fagots."

"Come on, why would he call them that?" Detective Kirkland asked jotting a quick note in his book.

"Two men in a West Village park at four in the morning? What's the chance that they're _not_ gay?" The smaller man shot back at him.

"You tell me. You live in the West Village?"

"My wife and I have lived there for eight years." Mr. Williams conceded.

"Like the neighboorhood?"

"I sure do."

"Lots of clubs and bars there," the detective stated, obviously fishing.

"They even have ones for straight people." Matthew shot back at him.

"Is that why you live there?"

"My wife and I have a beautiful apartment, Detective Kirkland. In a safe building on an otherwise quiet street. The fact that it's Graceland for gay people doesn't matter to me." The smaller man answered crisply, somehow implying that it did matter to the detective.

Detective Kirkland took a moment to review his notes and asked, "So what were these guys doing?"

"I didn't see-"

"Were they making out, rubbing up against each other?" A hint of disgust tinged the detective's voice.

"I didn't see anything till I heard the other one screaming. I went to the window then I called 911." Mr. Williams explained, growing colder towards the detective.

"What'd you see then?"

"He was beating on the both of them. I yelled down that I called the cops," The slender blonde related, "and I threw a couple flowerpots at him. My spider plants-"

Detective Kirkland interupted him, "So the screams woke you up?"

"I was in bed but up. Reading." The canadian man explained.

"Four-thirty in the morning?"

"I"m a fitful sleeper."

"You ever take anything?" The detective asked.

"No."

"So you weren't groggy or half asleap?"

"No."

"And you're sure you heard him call them fagots."

"I'm sure."

"And your wife?" Detective Kirkland asked, but Mr. Williams was quiet so he asked again, "Your wife?"

"She missed all the excitement." Was the crisp reply.

"What'd she-sleep right through it?" Detective Kirkland asked increduously, the other didn't meet his eyes. "Oh...she wasn't home. Four-thirty in the-is she a doctor?"

"No."

"...Investment banker?"

"Ha!" Matthew barked.

"Fire chief?"

"She's a book editor, Detective Kirkland." Matthew responded, voice full of disdain for his wife, and her "job".

"I didn't know book editors worked so late."

"They don't."

"Was she...out having drinks with some friends?" Detective Kirkland asked, trying to be tactfull.

"She was obviously out, wasn't she."

"So you were waiting up for her."

"I'm a fitful sleeper, Detective. Have been since before I married her and those two guys are lucky that I am and that I was up and that I did something." Mr. Williams nearly spat at the detective.

"You called 911."

"And my flowerpots." Tinges of grief and pride were in the canadian's voice.

"Did you hit him?"

"They fell near him. He stopped and took off."

"You stopped him." Detective Kirkland raised one of his substantial eyebrows, doubting wheather this mousey man could disuade a violent attacker.

"Well it wasn't the cops, took thirty minutes for someone to show up. You'd think it was Harlem, not the West Villiage."

**END**

**AN:** Hey sorry it took so long for such a short chapter, but I had finals and moving and life to take care of. To make up for it, I posted two chapters.


	5. Chapter 5

**Stop Kiss - Hetalia**

This is based on the play "Stop, Kiss" by Diana Son. The dialouge is pretty much the script, I just added all the action, just like a director would do with a play. I also changed character names and genders.

Poland/Prussia, Lithuania, Mentions: Sweden, Belarus

WARNINGS: Real names, language

Remember that even chapters are the secondary timeline and odd chapters are the primary timeline.

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Feliks' appartment is quiet, that is until he bursts through the door with a shopping bag from an off-beat clothing store and a bouquet of fresh flowers. The peppy blonde man is humming to himself as he sets down the shopping bag in the middle of the floor and heads to the kitchen to grab a vase for the flowers. He takes a minute to choose the right vase from among the several he owns and then places the flowers in the new vase on the kitchen table. Feliks then dances his way to the bedroom, snatching up his shopping on the way. The polish man twirled his way through his bedroom, stopping in front of the antique full length mirror that stands in the corner. Dipping a hand into the bag, he pulls out one of his purchases, a slinky little women's top and holds it up, measuring the effect in the mirror.

"Too slutty," he mutters to himself and tosses the garment across the room. He then pulls the next garment out of the bag, a rather dull button down shirt, and holds it up like the last one.

"Too butch," was the comment on this one, and it went flying toward the bathroom. Seeing that there wasn't anything else in the bag, Feliks surveyed his room. His eyes landed on a short skirt, which he grabbed and tries it on. He can't quite get it over his butt, so he pulls it off and tosses over his shoulder and it flies through the door into the main room. He pulls back on the jeans he was wearing earlier. As he's buttoning his fly, inspiration strikes and he pulls a t-shirt out of his dresser and puts it on. It looks like one of the shirts Gilbert would wear, a black indie band shirt that fits like a glove.

As Feliks is surveying himself in the mirror, the door buzzer buzzes. He hurries out of the bedroom, and hits the buzzer without asking who it is on her way to the flowers which he fusses over rearanging them in the vase. In his excitement, he knocks over the vase, spilling water over the table and onto the floor. Casting about for something to mop up the mess, he spies the errent skirt. Grabbing it Feliks starts mopping up the spilt water on the table. Before he can get to the water on the floor, there's a knock at the door. The blonde starts, paniced over the puddle, but before he can get to the door it opens and Toris walks in.

"Hey Feliks, when did they paint the - whoops!" he says as he enters, and steps in the puddle.

"Toris," Feliks says, suprised to see his best friend, but he plays it off like it's about the puddle.

Looking down at the puddle, the brown-haired man asks, "Did you get a puppy?"

"Yeah, right," the pole grabbed the skirt that he'd been using to mop up off the floor.

"So you're allright, huh?" Toris asked of his best friend, taking his jacket off, hanging it on the rack.

"Yeah, totally." Feliks gathered the rescued flowers together, jamming them back into the vase.

"I haven't heard from you in a while." The darker man elaberated as he crossed to the couch.

"I'm fine, fine..." Feliks said as he went into the kitchen and tossed the skirt into the trash, "Just been busy."

"Berwald said he'd called you abou that book you were looking for, you didn't call him back." Toris tossed over his shoulder.

"...I forgot." Feliks came back into the room, with the vase now full of water and the rescued flowers, which he placed back on the table.

"He got that job, you know."

"No, I didn't!" Feliks exclaimed, happy for their friend, yet supprised that he hadn't heard the news.

Toris stretched out on the couch, proping his legs over one of the arms and his head on a stack of pillows, "Yeah, he's really excited." Feliks was finally free to glare at his best friend. Toris continued talking, "We're gonna take him out on Friday night, so try not to be 'fine but busy' that night, okay?" The brunette grabbed the remote off the coffee table, and turned the TV on.

"I'll remember. Um, Toris-" Feliks' voice was dripping with disaproval, Toris didn't get it as he checked his watch.

"I know, I know, we can watch your show. I just want to check to see what the score is." He remarked as he dialed in the sports channel to the TV.

"I have plans for tonight." Feliks was growing more exasperated with his best friend, who just couldn't read the signs in front of his face.

"Oh yeah, what?" Toris asked, expecting that the blonde's plans were of the stay home with a good book type.

"I'm meeting someone for dinner." The lithuanian was caught of guard but happy for his friend. He turned off the TV and sat up to look at Feliks.

"You have a date?"

"No!"

"With _who_?"

"It's not a date, I'm just meeting my friend Gilbert for dinner." Feliks explained, suddenly shy. It was hard to talk about this with his on-again-off-again best friend-with-benefits.

"Who the hell is Gilbert?" A unexpected wave of jelousy hit Toris.

"I told you, that friend of a friend of a-" Seeing that the other man wasn't getting it, Feliks refreshed his memory, "He's new in town, I'm taking care of his cat-"

"I thought you said he was a big loser-"

"I said I didn't know, but now I do-he's not." Feliks was defensive of his new friend.

"So what is he?" Toris asked, brotherly care and curiousity driving his question.

"What." The blonde almost got whiplash from the change of direction in the conversation.

"What's he do?"

"He teaches up in the Bronx."

"Oh, so he's a nut." 

"There's something wrong with us." Feliks chuckled.

"Why?"

"Because that's what I thought when he told me."

"You have to wonder about people who want to do stuff like that." Toris said, glad to have defused the potential fight, "What does he want to do-save a life? Give a kid a chance? Or just feel good about trying?"

"She won a fellowship. She _competed_ to get this job." Feliks laughed, sitting down beside the other man.

"To teach in the Bronx? What'd the losers get?" Toris joked, but before Feliks could retort the door buzzed. Feliks pops off the sofa and his the buzzer to let them in. "You don't ask who it is anymore?"

"It's him."

"You thought it was him when you buzzed me in." The brunette accused.

"You're right, that was a mistake." Feliks admitted as he took Toris' jacket off the rack and opens it for him just as there is a knock at the door, apparently Gilbert. "Okay. Please leave now."

"Why?" Toris asked, still sitting on the couch.

"Because I gotta go."

The taller man stood up, "I'll walk out with you."

"But I'm not leaving yet."

"Huh?" Toris asked, trying to follow the blonde's logic. There's another knock at the door, Feliks growls at the other man, tossing the jacket at him, and unlocks the door, letting Gilbert enter.

"Hey," Feliks greeted the red-eyed man.

"Hi, here, these are ..." There was uncharacteristic shyness in Gilbert's voice as he held out a bouquet of baby roses to the blonde.

"Thank you," Feliks took the flowers, "They're so-" He said, as he ran a finger over the tiny blossoms.

"They're babies." Feliks leaned in to kiss Gilbert's cheek, but shyness caught him and he pulled back. The white-haired man took the cue late and sticks his head out as the blonde was pulling back. Seeing that Gilbert was recipricating, Feliks responds leaning back in for the kiss, but Gilbert has already reeled in like a turtle. Feliks gives up, sparing the pair from anymore awkwardness, turning instead to the table. He takes the old flowers out of the vase and puts the roses in.

"I was just going to throw these out." the blonde, a slight blush on his cheeks.

Gilbert had recovered from the kiss debacle, following Feliks to the kitchen doorway, "Hey, did you see they're filming a movie or something on the next block? Do you think we could stop on our way to the restaurant and watch for a while?"

"It's NYPD Blue-" Toris said as he stepped out of the bedroom where he hid while the other two were dancing around the kiss. Gilbert was startled by his sudden appearence. "Oop-didn't mean to scare you."

"No no, you didn't." The prussian waved it off, as the other man crossed and extended his hand.

"I'm Toris." 

"Oh Toris," Gilbert shook his hand, "I heard so much about you!"

The brunette was stuck because he couldn't say the same thing back, "...Nice to meet you."

Feliks reemerged from the kitchen and found the other two staring at each other, "Oh, sorry. Gilbert, this is Toris. Toris, this is-"

"We did this." Toris interupted.

"Good." Feliks turned to Gilbert, "We should go."

"Where're you guys having dinner?" Toris asked, the nosy best friend.

Feliks tries to slip it past him, "Vong."

Toris glances at the blonde's outfit, "Dressed like that?"

"I didn't have time-"

"You look great," Gilbert consoled.

"Well, tell me what you get." Toris asked.

"Have you ever been?" Gilbert asked.

"Out of my league."

Gilbert turned to Feliks, who was puttering about his outfit, "Is it expensive? I don't want you to-"

"It's not expensive." Feliks assured him.

"You're treating?" Toris asked, intregued, "Then I wanna-"

"You still owe me for my birthday." The blonde shot back at him.

"Let's go dutch, Feliks," Gilbert suggested, not comfortable with his friend treating him to an expensive meal.

"It's _my_ treat." Feliks asserted.

"What's the occasion?" Toris asked. After a moment of silence it was clear that there wasn't one.

Quick on his feet Gilbert supplied one, "Actually, we're celebrating the fact that today Natasha, one of my students, wrote her name for the very first time."

Feliks looked down at his outfit, making a decission, "I'm changing." He ran into the bedroom.

"That's right, you're a teacher."

"Mm hm." Gilbert nodded.

"Kindergarten?" Toris asked.

"Third grade."

"And this kid wrote her name for the first time?"

"Perfectly." Pride for his student filled Gilbert, it was these small victories that got him into teaching.

"Isn't that-"

"Wonderful?"

"...Yeah, isn't it?" The pair were spared anymore conversation by the enterance of Feliks, who was now wearing a slightly dressy shirt.

"We should go, our reservation's at eight o'clock." He said to Gilbert.

"Do we have time to stop by? The _NYPD_-" Gilbert asked.

"Sure." Gilbert headed toward the door.

"Okay, well um, 'bye. Nice to meet you." Toris said.

"Don't you want to come with us and watch them filming?" Gilbert asked. Toris tossed a quick look at Feliks, who shook his head just as quickly, none of which Gilbert caught.

"Mmm, I think I'll wait until it's on TV."

Feliks ushered the whole group out the door, but whispered in Toris' ear as she did, "Meanie."

"Never take _me_ to Vong." He whispered back to the blonde.

Gilbert called to the both of them from the elevator, Feliks waved back then closed and locked his door.

**END**


	6. Chapter 6

**Stop Kiss - Hetalia**

This is based on the play "Stop, Kiss" by Diana Son. The dialouge is pretty much the script, I just added all the action, just like a director would do with a play. I also changed character names and genders.

Poland/Prussia, England

WARNINGS: Real names, language

Remember that even chapters are the secondary timeline and odd chapters are the primary timeline.

This chapter comes directly after chapter 4 (with Canada/Matthew). I also appoligize for how long I took to get this chapter up, I was dreading writing it for reasons you'll find out later.

**CHAPTER SIX**

This small, sparce room looked just like every interveiw room ever shown in a crime show. Plain cinderblock walls provided no escape for the people who visted it. This is why Feliks was currently cradling his head in his arms on the table. The glass of water before him sat untouched. He was wearing a set of sweats that he'd thrown on in the ten minutes the police officer who'd escorted him home had allowed before taking him to the police station. The blonde glanced up when he heard the door open reveiling Detective Kirkland.

"Hey, thanks for coming in. You want some coffee?" The officer asks.

"Thank you, I'm fine." Feliks mummbled, as the Englishman flipped through the pages on the notepad he'd brought in with him.

"We were talking about the White Horse Tavern last time, right? On Hudson Street?"

"Yes." The Pole's blonde haired swayed indicating that he'd nodded as well.

"That's a famous bar, you know? Has a long literary tradition. They say Dylan Thomas died waiting for a drink there." Arthur was trying to lighten the mood.

"I hadn't heard." Feliks continued to mumble.

"I talked to the bartender there." The Detective got down to business, "I told you I wanted to ask him if he noticed anyone suspicious there that night. Maybe someone paying attention to you and your friend that you didn't notice."

"Yes, you said."

"I went in and talked to Stacy, she said she didn't remember you and your friend coming in."

"It was pretty crowded." Feliks offered as a reason. Detective Kirkland gave him a moment to see if he'd catch the discrepency.

When Feliks gave no motion of speaking again, the Investigator asked,"Do you remember telling me that the bartender at the White Horse Tavern that night was a tall _guy_?"

"Gil ordered the drinks." The smaller man provided, his voice still devoid of emotion.

"So you didn't get a good look at the bartender."

"I didn't."

"Not even enough to tell if it was a girl or a guy." The detective asked, his sizable eyebrows meeting in the middle of his forhead.

"I'm sorry." Feliks responded, his eyes tracing an invisable pattern on the table.

Arthur Kirkland could tell he'd get no more out of the other man on that point and decided to move on, "So after you leave the White Horse, you and your friend go for a walk. You end up in that park area outside the playground. And you're...doing what?" He prompted once it was obvious that Feliks wouldn't continue on his own.

"We were sitting on one of the benches, talking to each other...when this guy says something." Feliks says, continueing to talk to the table, like he's reciting from a text book.

"What'd he say?"

"Something like, 'Hey, you want to party-."

"What did you say?"

"I didn't."

"Gilbert said something."

"Yes."

"So Gilbert provoked him." The detective concluded.

"What!" Feliks' head popped up, full of life now that he was defending Gilbert.

"Gilbert told him to 'fuck off,' and that's when the guy hit Mr. Beilschmidt, right?"

"No." Feliks said, shaking his head emphatically.

"I mean, if the two of you had ignored him or walked away, this wouldn't have happened, would it?" Detective Kirkland explained.

"If _he_ hadn't started-"Feliks started, pushing his chair away from the table.

"But Gilbert had to say something and that's what got him pissed, that's why the guy wanted to hit him. Why did she say something?" The cop pushed, hoping to find a way to pin this on the victim.

"He started it, he-"

"Allright. _He_ must have said something first-something that upset Gilbert. What upset him so much?" Detective Kirkland continued to push.

"He was bothering-" Feliks paused, not able to bring himself to say what the attacker said.

"What did he say? Mr. Beilschmidt said, 'Leave us alone,' and then the guy said what?" Feliks doesn't respond to the Englishman's direct pushing, "Did the guy call him something?"

"What?" Feliks asked, being pulled out of the trance he'd gone into while remembering the incident.

"Did he call her something?" Arthur repeated himself, "Like a name?"

"No."

"What's a name that might upset Gilbert?" The Detective fished.

"I don't know."

"How about queer?"

"No."

"The guy didn't call Gilbert queer?"

"I don't -"

"A shit-packing queer?" Feliks glances at the detective, wondering where he got that phrase.

"No."

"What'd he say, then-"

"He shouldn't've-"

"What'd he call Gilbert?" The detective pushed.

"He called-"

"What?"

"A fucking-"

"Say it!" Arthur Kirkland yelled at Feliks, trying to get him to commit.

"Fucking faggot! Shit-packing faggots-both of us." The pole yelled back at the Englishman.

"Why would he say that, why would he call you that? A nice 'couple' sitting on a park bench talking, why would he call you faggots?"

Feliks paused before he admitted, "Because we were kissing." Detective Kirkland nodded to himself joting down a note. "It was the first- We didn't know he was there. Until he said something. 'Hey baby, same some of that for me.' Gilbert told him to leave me, his boyfriend, alone. I couldn't beleive she-then he offered to pay us. He said he'd give us fifty bucks if we went to a motel with him and let him watch. He said we could do what ever we wanted to- turns him on just to watch." Now that he was telling it, he couldn't stop, it was just coming up like word vomit. "I grabbed Gil's arm and started walking away. He came after us, calling us fucking faggots-shit-packing faggots. Gil told him to fuck off. I couldn't beleive- he came up and punched Gil in the back, then grabbed him and pulled him away. I yelled for someone to call the police. The guy pushed Gil against the building. The guy told Gil to watch his dick-licking mouth. But the guy had his hand over Gil's mouth, he couldn't- Gil just made these mangled-Gil was trying to breathe. I came up behind the guy and grabbed his hair-he turned and punched me in the stomach. I threw up, it got him. Gil tried to get away but the guy grabbed her and started banging Gil's head against his knee. I tried to hold his arms back but he was stronger- he knocked Gil out. He pushed me to the ground and started kicking me. Someone yelled something-'Cops are coming'- and he took off in the opposite direction. West. He was limping. He hurt his knee." Feliks took a moment to gather himself, and looked Detective Kirkland in the eye and said, "That's what happened."


	7. Chapter 7

**Stop Kiss - Hetalia**

This is based on the play "Stop, Kiss" by Diana Son. The dialouge is pretty much the script, I just added all the action, just like a director would do with a play. I also changed character names and genders.

Poland, Prussia

WARNINGS: Real names, language

Remember that even chapters are the secondary timeline and odd chapters are the primary timeline, when I'm done I'll post a timeline.

AN:To my reviewer, you know who you are:

Thanks a bunch. I love reading your reviews, they make me feel good about writing this.

I don't think of my Toris as nosy or jelous, just possesive/protective of what he thinks of as his, including Feliks. I like to think of Gil's cockyness as a put on, like a defence mechanism, and when he's relaxed with someone it fade. Sorta like Felik's valley-boi accent, I only add it when he's nervous/excited. Both are characteristics I love in the characters, but I wanted to write it a little more true to life, I guess. And I agree that Pol/Pru needs more love, they have a dysfunctional history that just works wonderfully into a relationship.

Thanks for pointing out that i have mistakes, I kept catching myself writting she, but I guess i didn't catch all of them, and the program i'm using doesn't have spell check.

As for what happens in the future, you're just gonna have to keep reading. insert evil laugh here But I'm sure you're just gonna love this chapter.

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

It was late, and Gilbert was reclined on Felik's couch, listening to the sounds the blonde was making in the kitchen, while he pondered the playing cards he had in his hand. He downed the wine that remained in his glass before placing a card on the discard pile that was on the coffee table next to the empty wine bottle. He was wishing that they weren't out of wine, it was so good, when a hand appeared pouring some more wine into his glass. Feliks set the new bottle next to the old one and then plopped on the floor on the other side of the coffee table. He picked a new card off the draw pile and picked up his cards.

Gilbert looked across at the blonde, who was intently studying his cards, and asked, "Okay. If you're in someone else's bathroom and they have the toilet paper coming out the bottom instead of the top-"

"I hate that." Feliks interupted, not looking up from his cards.

"Do you change it or leave it the way it is?"

Blue eyes opened in supprise meeting the red ones that were staring at him, "What do you mean change it? You'd change somebody else's toilet roll?"

The albino shrugged breaking the eye contact, "If I was gonna use it a couple times." Feliks snorted derisivly, before Gilbert prompted him, "Allright, you go next."

"So if you were driving down a highway and say a pothole in teh road ahead what would you do, straddle or swerve?"

"Straddle. You?" Gilbert asked.

"Straddle."

"Swerve." Gilbert accused of Feliks.

"Nah ah." The blonde retorted.

"Yes, you would." Gilbert said, his red eyes teasing.

"Cat in the road." Feliks moved on, not falling for Gilbert's ploy.

"Gilbird!-say a rabbit." But Gilbert fell for Feliks' change of subject.

"Okay, a rabbit. Straddle, swerve or brake?" The pole restated the question.

"Straddle a rabbit?" Gilbert asked, wondering if it was possible.

"Sport utility vehicle - four-wheel drive, you could." Feliks offered, then placed a card from his hand on the discard pile, and took a sip of his wine.

"Screech to a brake, check the rabbit, then-smoke. You?" Gilbert answered.

"Brake."

"_Swerve._" Gilbert accused again.

"Why do you keep saying that?" Feliks asked, a little huffy.

"This is you." Gilbert sat and gripped an imaginary steering wheel. He bugged his eyes out and pulled the imaginary wheel hard to the right, then quickly back to the right. He then started laughing.

Feliks threw his cards down, which only fueled Gilbert's laughter, "These cards are driving me nuts."

"One more hand, please." Gilbert turned his peircing red eyes on the blue ones that were looking at him. Feliks picked his cards back up.

"Can I ask you something about your job?"

"Yep." smuggness tinged Gilbert's responce, he knew he one round.

"Why did you want it?" Feliks asked.

"You mean this fellowship?"

"Public school, the Bronx-teaching?"

"Instead of private school, St. Louis-teaching?" Gilbert echoed the blonde's phrasing, teasing him a little.

"That's what you're used to, right?"

Gilbert took a breath before explaining, "It's where I _worked_ for five years, I never got used to it. I mean, I never went to private school. We all went to the cruddy public school-I mean it's cruddy compared to the private school, it's the Sorbonne compared to where I teach now. But in a private school..."Gilbert paused, trying to put it in words, "I mean, what am I giving them? They have more than everything."

"And the Bronx?"

"These kids-you know who I was when I was their age? I was the kid who had the right answer, knew I had the right answer but would never raise my hand. Hoping that the teacher would call on me anyway. Those are my favorite kids to teach. And here? Now? I got a classroom full of them." Gilbert took a drink of his wine, but Feliks wouldn't meet his eyes. The blonde was looking at the discard pile.

"Did you pick a card? You have to pick a card."

Gilbert leaned over and pulled a card off the top of the draw pile, "You should come and meet them one day."

"Yeah, okay." Feliks snorted, half laughing.

"I'll bet you've never even been to the Bronx."

"I go every day." Feliks asserted.

"_Fly over._" The albino corrected.

"That's more than most New Yorkers." The blonde retorted.

Gilbert studied the man who was seated opposite of him and was fiddling with his cards, "Can I ask you about your job?"

Feliks froze, ice blooming in his gut, "Go ahead."

"Why the traffic?"

"Why the traffic indeed."

"I mean, as opposed to news reporting or other kinds of journalism." Gilbert supposed.

"I'm not a journalist. I never worked in radio or TV before I got that job." Feliks admitted.

Gilbert was puzzled, "So how'd you get it?"

"My boyfriend Ivan's uncle worked at the station."

"Oh."

"I mean, it's the traffic, it's not even-_the weather._ You just ride around in a helicopter and tell people what the cars are doing." Feliks ranted, getting down on himself.

"The helicopter part is pretty great, right?" Gilbert tried to find something to cheer up his friend.

"Yeah, how great?" Feliks' voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"Well if you don't like it you should get another job."

"I can't." Gilbert offered his imitation of Feliks swerving again, "I don't get that."

"What time is it?" Gilbert asked, stiffling a yawn.

Feliks checked his watch, "Two-thirty."

"Already? Is the subway okay this time of night?"Gilbert asked of the experienced New Yorker.

"You should take a cab." The blonde advised.

"How much will that be?"

"About ten bucks?" Feliks estimated.

"I'll take the train." Gilbert decided.

"I'll give you the money-"Feliks started.

Gilbert interupted him, "I have it, it's just too much. It's only four or five stops on the train."

Feliks was uncomfortable with his friend taking the subway at this time of night and was racking his brain for any other option, when his eyes fell on the sofa an idea popped into his head. "Listen you can..." The blonde was nervous all of a sudden, "you know, you're welcom to stay..." he nudged the sofa with his foot, "this pulls out to be a sofa bed...you can take a train in the morning, when it's safe. I'm not getting up for anything in particular."

"Maybe Gilbird will come sleep with me."

"Yes! You can reconcile with your cat!" Feliks was glad that he found something that would keep the other man safe.

"He's holding a grudge. He never comes out when I'm here." Gilbert whined, taking a swig of his wine.

"It took a few days before he started to sleep with me." Feliks reasured the albino.

"Lucky." Feliks almost choked on his wine, and stole a fertive glance at the man sitting on his couch.

"I'm sure he'll sleep with you tonight."

"Yeah."

Feliks got up, clearing stuff off the coffee table so it could be moved out of the way. "Here, let me just get those-" he said, moving towards the cushions. Gilbert helped, throwing the cushions on the floor behind the couch. Together they pull out the bed. "I think it's comfortable," Feliks excused, "I haven't slept on it myself-because I live here-but if it's not comfortable enough then I'll switch beds with you. In fact, should we just do that? You sleep in my room and I'll sleep out here?" The blonde rambled nervously.

Gilbert laughed to himself, "No, no, this'll be fine."

Feliks bounces on the sofa bed a couple times then gets up, "I think it's comfortable. Is there anything else you need?"

"I think I'm all set."

"All right. Sleep tight."

"Goodnight." The albino replied. The pair just stood there for a moment. Finally, Feliks smiled shyly and walked into his bedroom. Gilbert yawned and then reached up to unbutton his work shirt. He'd just shrugged out of it when Feliks reentered with a T-shirt.

"Do you need a tee-whoop." Feliks covered his eyes with a hand

"Oh-I have one." Gilbert pulls one out of his backpack which was propped up against the side of the couch. "We did face painting today so I-"

"I'm sorry." Feliks appoligized, snatching a peek through his fingers before Gilbert put his shirt on.

"It's okay."

"Goodnight,' The blonde sent over his shoulder as he went back into his room.

"Sweet dreams." Gilbert slid into bed and turned out the lamp that was next to the couch. He lied there a moment before,"psss psss pssss pss pss psss." He lifted his head to look for his cat, "Gillllbirrrrrd." When there was no sign from the feline, Gilbert dropped his head back down on the pillow and waited another minute, "Come on you grudge holder. Psss pss psss." Still no sign of the cat. Finally he called to Feliks, "Is he in there with you?"

"Uh uh. He's not out there with you?" Feliks called back.

"No."

Feliks appeared in the doorway in his pink, pony pajamas and leaned against, "Is he under your bed?"

Gilbert leaned off the bed, and peered under the bed, "No." Feliks shrugs at him when he became upright again. "Will you do you me a favor?" Gilbert asked, "For just like a minute?"

"Sure."

"Would you just lay in bed here for just a minute to see if he comes." Gilbert suggested.

"Okay," Feliks crossed the room to the bed.

"Since he's been sleeping with you." Gilbert elaberated. Feliks gets into the other side of the bed, next to Gilbert, and pulls the covers up.

"I guess we have to convince him we're sleeping."

"Oh, right." They both slide down, and lay down. Feliks wiggles a bit, getting comfortable.

"This bed is comfortable." Feliks remarked.

"Isn't it?"

"I never laid on it before."

"It's comfortable." Gilbert stated.

"I got it secondhand." Feliks admitted.

"Really?"

"A hundred and fifty bucks."

"That's cheap."

"It's comfortable." Feliks repeated himself, wonder in his voice. They just layed there for a minute before Gilbert realized something.

"Are your feet hot?" The albino asked.

"What?" Feliks was confused by this nonsequitor.

"My feet get hot when I sleep." Gilbert admitted.

"Even in winter?"

"Yeah."

"Take them out." Feliks suggested.

"I usually move the sheet so that it goes the other way, you know, the short way-" Gilbert explained.

"Okay." Gilbert got up, pulled the sheet out so that he could turn it around so that both of their feet were exposed, then he layed back down.

They spent another moment in silence before Gilbert asked, "Do you see him?"

Feliks startled, he'd been looking at Gilbert, "Who?"

"Gilbird."

"Not yet." They spent another minute or so just laying there staring at the ceiling. "Huh?" Feliks asked, when there was no response, he continued, "Are you asleep?" Still no response, so Feliks turned to face Gilbert, "You're not asleep already, are you?" Silence was the only response. Feliks turned his back to Gilbert and pulled his feet under the covers.

Slowly a pair of red eyes opened and turned to look at the back of the blonde head that was next to him.

**END CHAPTER**


	8. Chapter 8

**Stop Kiss - Hetalia**

This is based on the play "Stop, Kiss" by Diana Son. The dialouge is pretty much the script, I just added all the action, just like a director would do with a play. I also changed character names and genders.

Poland, Lithuania

WARNINGS: Real names, language

Remember that even chapters are the secondary timeline and odd chapters are the primary timeline, when I'm done I'll post a timeline.

AN:To my Fan:

Yes, exams are a perfect excuse. It's no excuse to why I haven't updated yet, 'cause I've just graduated and have no more exams.

I like to think of Poland and Lithuania's relationship as bffs, not the fluffy, sugar-coated bffs that everyone seems to write. But like real friends, ones with ups and downs. One of my bffs and I didn't talk for a year and a half after she stole my boyfriend, we didn't reconcile until he dumped her for a younger girl (after I had my "How does it feel?" period.) In this I had to put them in the on-again-off-again, friends-with-benefits, when it's conveinent, relationship.

As for Gilbird, of course he'd see right through the plan, he'd laugh and take the whole bed in the bedroom. You can lie to a cat, I know I have one who we frequently trick into things, but I wouldn't make a habit of it, her middle name is Natasha for a reason.

I predict you're gonna have a love/hate thing with this chapter. Also if I may ask, where are you from? Because your English is awesome for someone who doesn't write in it often.

**CHAPTER 8**

The endless knocking rang through Felik's appartment, rousing him from his bed. He shuffled across the appartment, yawning as he did. He's wearing his pink, pony pajamas and looks like he needs to sleep for at least 12 hours. He looks through the peephole, and upon seeing who it is he calls, "Allright Toris, I hear you!" Feliks unlocks the door and Toris bursts in, wearing the white button-down and black vest that make up his bartending uniform.

"How long have you been home?" Toris yelled at the blonde.

"Lower your voice." Feliks mumbled, aware that many of his neighbors would be trying to sleep, and he was starting a headache.

"Why didn't you answer your phone?" The taller man asked at a more resonable volume but still with all the intensity of his previous question.

"I don't know."

"You wanna know how fucked up and worried about you everyone is right now?" The Lithuanian asked of his rather unresponsive friend.

"No." Feliks sat down at his dining table, watching his friend pace around the appartment with blank eyes.

"You wanna know how I heard?"

"No."

"You wanna know exactly what drink I was making at the moment I heard your name on the goddamn TV?" Toris gestured to the offending applience.

"No, I don't."

"Dirty martini," Toris got lost in his rant, "TV's on in the background. I hear about this gay bashing, two men attacked, and I sort of pay attention, not really. I'm making this drink and thinking about how I gotta run downstairs and get some more peanuts. And then I feel my ears close and my face gets all hot, like I just swallowed a mouthfull of hot peppers. So I turn to the TV, but now they're talking about some appartment fire. So I switch the channel and they're just starting the story. Gay bashing. Man in a coma. Feliks Lukasiewicz, they totally butchered your name..."

"I'm not in a coma." Feliks inturupted.

"What?" Toris was caught off guard by the responce.

"Gilbert's in a coma."

"How do I know that?"

"What was I-" Feliks started.

"How do I know anything but what I see on the goddamn-" Toris interupted.

"What did you want - me to call you from the hospital?" Feliks threw back at him.

"Yes!"

"What would I say? On a pay phone. In the hospital. Gilbert lying in a room swollen and blue, face cracked open, knocked out, not responding to anything but the barest reflex - all because...because-" Feliks' voice cracked and he got up and moved toward the kitchen.

"Come and get me. That's what you could've said." Toris noticed the slow, tentative way the blonde was moving. "Are you hurt? Did a doctor look at you?"

"Gilbert's hurt." Feliks stated, adding to himself, _nothing else matters._

"Nothing happened to you?" When Feliks didn't repond, Toris moved toward him. Feliks took a quick step away, and flinched in pain, "Feliks-"

"Bruises." The blonde admited.

"Where."

"Cracked rib."

"Let me see." Toris said.

"There's nothing to see." Feliks asserted.

After an awkward silence, Toris asked quietly, "Do you want me to call anyone?"

"No."

The brunette cast about for the next option, settling on, "Do you want me to spend the night?"

"No."

"Do you want me to go?"

Feliks looked up from the stain on the table he'd been staring at, to meet the other man's gaze, "No." He gathered the courage to ask the question that had been swimming in his head, "Toris, do you remember the first time we kissed?"

The man had to think about it a second, "No."

"Me either." Feliks admited, "You know, I would stand at the door with Gilbert and say 'goodnight,' 'take care,' 'see ya tomarrow,' 'get home safe-' When what I _really_ wanted to do was plant him a big, fat, wet one. Square on the lips. Nothing confusing about it. He wouldn't have to think 'Maybe Feliks meant to kiss me on the cheek and ... missed.' You know, just right there. Not between friends. Not a friendly kiss at all. Bigger. So he'd know. He'd know for sure. That I was answering him. Gilbert is always asking me, 'What do you _want, Feliks_?' And finally, I let him know. I answered."


	9. Chapter 9

**Stop Kiss - Hetalia**

This is based on the play "Stop, Kiss" by Diana Son. The dialouge is pretty much the script, I just added all the action, just like a director would do with a play. I also changed character names and genders.

Poland, Prussia

WARNINGS: Real names, language

Remember that even chapters are the secondary timeline and odd chapters are the primary timeline, when I'm done I'll post a timeline.

**AN:**

To my reviewers;

Your reviews inspire me to keep writing.

I dearly hope that Hetalia characters aren't true representations of their nations' populations. Athough I know the world sees America as the busy body of world politics. And I know many Canadians who aren't the shy, polite person that Canada is in Hetalia.

I'm glad you like how I write Toris. I hope that all my characters are like real people, complete with flaws. Of course it's easier to write when I have a script to work with. I won't spoil the ending for you :) And I hope you can stand it and not look up the play.

I like your long reviews, they let me know how my readers see my story.

Also I will post several chapters now, to make up for my long pauses. I also tweaked Chapter 2 a little.

**CHAPTER 9**

There was a cozyness to Feliks' appartment this evening. He was feeling domestic, puttering around the kitchen wearing an apron. The blonde was humming to himself, pleased that he was making dinner. He started when the oven timer went off and hurried to the oven. As Feliks opened the oven door, a wall of smoke billowed forth from the oven. Silently swearing to himself, the polish man quickly pulled the roasting pan out of the smoky abyss and placed it on the counter. As the smoke disapates, what might have been a chicken emerges in the pan, the luckless bird is chared beyond recognition. As Feliks ponders the lack of his cooking skills, there's a knock at the door. Startled once again, the blonde hurries to the door and looks through the peephole. It's Gilbert. "Gswno," Feliks swears under his breath as he whips back to the kitchen, pulling off his apron, to hide the evidence of his cullinary mishap.

The blonde whirlwind hurries back to open the door, hopeing that Gilbert isn't getting impatient. He puts a smile on his face and pulls open the door.

As Gilbert enters, the taller man says, "The kids talked about you the rest of the day, you were hilarious."

The albino put his jacket on the rack as Feliks asked, "How'd you get in?" Feliks didn't remember buzzing his friend through the front door.

"Huh? Oh, there was this woman with a baby carriage. I held the door for her, then squeezed in behind her." Gilbert caught a whiff of the erstwhile poultry, and stated, "It smells like something in here."

"Like what?" Feliks asked, deciding to play dumb.

"Like someone vomited in sawdust." Gilbert characterized the smell, causing Feliks to glare at him, but the Prussian didn't notice it as he remembered something. "Oh- I brought you this-" He pulled a bottle of wine out of his bag, which he'd set under his jacket, and handed it to the blonde, "For coming in and talking to the kids."

Feliks set the bottle on the dining table, "It's a little early for me."

"It's..." Gilbert checked his watch, "almost six."

"Go ahead, you have some."

"Don't open it for me."

"Okay."

Gilbert paused, staring at the blonde who'd planted himself in front of the kitchen door which was uncharacteristically closed, "So what'd you do the rest of the day?"

"Nothing." Feliks shrugged.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing." Feliks repeated, not meeting the red eyes that were trained on him.

Gilbert sat down in the chair opposite of the blonde, "You know Lili, the girl with the purple ribbon in her hair today? She used to say 'nothing' just like that. Until I squeezed an answer out of her." He had picked up one of the forks and was twirling it between his fingers.

"Those kids adore you." Feliks stated as he slipped into the other chair.

"Do you think?" Gilbert was now trying to balence the fork on a finger.

"You have a knack for them."

"Thank you."

"It was humiliating for me." Feliks admitted, picking nonexistant lint off of the table cloth.

"Why?"

"Standing up there talking about my idiotic job."

"You ride in a helicopter, Feliks, what could be cooler than that?" Gilbert turned the fork into a helicopter flying it over the table.

"Have you noticed? The only thing you ever praise about my job is that I ride in a helicopter?" Feliks was peircing the other man with his gaze, his green eyes full of bluntness. Gilbert's breath caught in his throat. Feliks continued without waiting, "But that doesn't even matter. Standing up in front of those kids today telling them about what I do I thought - why should these kids care about traffic, their families don't have cars. I don't have a car. No one I care about has a car. Who am I helping?"

"People with cars." Gilbert provided, trying to be helpfull.

"Who are they? Why do they live in New York City? Why have a car when you hear every ten minutes on the radio that the traffic is so bad?"

"Maybe you should look for another job?"

"Whose uncle's gonna get it for me this time?" Feliks spat back at the other man.

"You could get a job based on your experience."

"As a traffic reporter?"

"What do you want to do instead?" Gilbert asked.

"I don't know." Feliks hadn't ever thought about it, even though he hated his job.

"Allright. Come on, we can think about this." Gilbert treated this like a math problem one of his students said that they couldn't solve, "What do you like?"

"I don't want to do this." Feliks pushed back his chair and rose, turning to the kitchen but realized that he couldn't open the door without revealing the disaster area, and turned back to the other man like a trapped cat.

"You know a lot about food...you have a great taste in restaurants-"

"I don't-" Feliks' eyes were darting, looking for a way to disuade the line of thought that Gilbert was going down without revealing his own weakness, and failed misserably, "I really don't want to do this."

"You should become a chef!" Gilbert looked like he'd discovered the holy grail. And Feliks looked like he'd just discovered he'd gone to school in his underwear again.

Thankfully the upstairs neighbor started his tap-dance for elephants class, or what ever it was that caused that horrible racket, and Feliks darted to the door, grabbing his jacket, "Let's get the hell out of here."

"You could go to cooking school-" Gilbert was pleased with the idea.

"Let's see what's playing at the three-dollar movie theatre." Feliks suggested, trying to break Gilbert's concentration.

"You obviously have some kind of talent for food-" Feliks tossed Gilbert's jacket at the man, somehow missing the table and yet hitting the man in the face.

His thought successfully broken by the wind of the jacket which had brought another whiff of failed cookery, "God, what is that smell?"

"I think someone downstairs was trying to cook something." Feliks supplied, crossing his fingers in his pocket.

Gilbert grimiced as he got up, "You think that smell is related to food?"

Feliks opened the door and waved his friend through. He glanced at the kitchen before closing the appartment door, "Barely."

**END CHAPTER**

**AN:** _Gswno:_ Polish, "Shit".


	10. Chapter 10

**Stop Kiss - Hetalia**

This is based on the play "Stop, Kiss" by Diana Son. The dialouge is pretty much the script, I just added all the action, just like a director would do with a play. I also changed character names and genders.

Poland, Prussia

WARNINGS: Real names, language

Remember that even chapters are the secondary timeline and odd chapters are the primary timeline, when I'm done I'll post a timeline.

**CHAPTER 10**

The hospital was rarely a pleasent place to be. Feliks hated the building for all the pain he'd felt there. But he was standing in a hospital room now, this time of his own choosing. Where else would he be when Gilbert was still here. Feliks had been standing at the foot of the bed for some time, watching his friend, looking for some sign that Gilbert would be ok. Feliks was wondering if there was something he could do to help. Feliks remembered something, barely smiling to himself.

Feliks looked over his shoulder, checking if there were any nurses watching him. Seeing that the coast is clear, he untucks the bottom of the sheet and rolls it back to reveal Gilbert's feet. Feliks then tucks the sheet in on the sides so it'll stay that way.


	11. Chapter 11

**Stop Kiss - Hetalia**

This is based on the play "Stop, Kiss" by Diana Son. The dialouge is pretty much the script, I just added all the action, just like a director would do with a play. I also changed character names and genders.

Poland, Prussia

WARNINGS: Real names, language

Remember that even chapters are the secondary timeline and odd chapters are the primary timeline, when I'm done I'll post a timeline.

**CHAPTER 11**

Feliks was wearing his best suit, with a bright pink tie. He was currently pacing around his appartment. Gilbert was half an hour late. The blonde was impatiently thumbing through a book when the buzzer rang. Feliks tossed the book on the coffee table and rushed to buzz back, grabbing his coat from the rack. A moment later there's a knock at the door and he opens it to reveal Gilbert, soaked to the knees and holding a sodden newspaper.

"Wow, it's really starting to come down now." Gilbert said, waving his newspaper as evidence.

"That means it's gonna be hard to get a cab." Feliks quipped, irritation more then evident.

Gilbert looked at his watch, "We still have time."

"Not really." Feliks said, trying to turn Gilbert around.

"We can be a little late, can't we?" Gilbert pushed past the blonde into the appartment.

"Gil, I asked you to be here by 5:30," the Pole scolded.

"I know, I'm sorry, I lost track of time." Gilbert shrugged out of his coat, revealing slacks and a plain button-up shirt, no tie, obviously his work attire, "Let me just stand next to the radiator for a second."

Feliks eyed his friend's attire, trying to understand what he was seeing, "Is that what you're wearing?"

Gilbert was rubbing his hands together over the radiator in the corner; he looked down at his clothes, trying to figure out what was wrong, "Yeah...What?"

"Nothing."

"I mean, is this a dress-up event?" Gilbert asked, Feliks shrugged in reply, "What are you wearing?"

"Just..." Feliks shrugged again, "clothes." 

"Let me see."

"It's just ... what I wore to a friend's wedding." Feliks shrugged again.

"Let me see?" Gilbert asked, in full puppy-eyes mode. The blonde opened his coat, revealing his outfit, a slight blush on his cheeks. "Oh, you look great," Feliks closed his jacket. "I'm underdressed." Gilbert stated, motioning appologetically to his clothes.

"We don't have time to stop by your place." Feliks offered as an excuse.

"Can I borrow something of yours?" Gilbert asked, they were nearly the same size after all.

"Let's just forget it, I don't want to go." Feliks plopped down on the couch still in his coat.

Gilbert turned, now warming his back, to face the other man, "I thought you had to."

"Technically," Feliks huffed.

"Isn't your station getting an award?"

"They are, I'm not." The blonde grumbled.

"So do you want to go or not?" Gilbert asked, getting to the bottom of it.

"I have to." 

"Okay, let's go." Gilbert moved to the door, grabbing his jacket. When it was obvious that Feliks wasn't gonna follow, he turned around as asked, "What's going on?"

"Nothing." Feliks huffed again.

Gilbert just stood there, stareing at his friend for a moment. "Why are you still sitting down?" A shrug was the only response he got. Gilbert sighed to himself, and decided to do something to cheer up his friend. "Let's see what you've got in your closet," Gilbert announced as he moved toward the closet. Feliks didn't even twitch as he sat moodily on the couch. Gilbert came back, holding a hanger with a dark red jacket, that had a pheonix embroidered on the back. "Could I wear this?"

Feliks glanced at the garment in question, "I wore that to a reception last week."

"You did, I didn't."

"People will recognize it."

"Do you care?" Gilbert asked, but Feliks just shrugged in response. "Feliks, what the hell."

"I don't know."

"Okay. Just tell me. What do you want?" Gilbert asked, straitforward, demanding an answer.

"I have to go to this thing." Feliks stated, as if reminding himself.

"Do you not want me to go? Is that it?"

"You don't have to go if you don't want to." Feliks mummbled.

Gilbert crouched in front of his friend, making him meet his eye, "Feliks, will you say what you want?"

"I have to go, I have to."

"So, let's go." Gilbert said, trying to pull the blonde off the couch.

Feliks looked up at his friend, "What are you going to wear?"

"What?"

Feliks stood up, "I have to go to this thing and I want you to go with me but I don't want you to wear what you're wearing and I don't want you to wear my clothes." Feliks grabbed the jacket off the coffee table where Gilbert had set it, "What will people think if we walk in together and you're wearing my clothes?"

It was the Prussian's turn to sit on the couch, "I'm not going," he said huffily.

"Now this." Feliks threw up his hands.

"I'm tired, I'm underdressed," Gilbert explained, "I'm not going to know anyone there except for you - forget it." He put his feet up on the coffee table for emphasis.

"Gil, I asked you to go to this thing with me a week ago; I told you it was an awards ceremony, why didn't you dress like you were going to school?" Now that his cork had been popped, Feliks was going off on his friend.

"You didn't make it sound like it was that big a deal."

"An _awards ceremony?_" Feliks yelled.

"If you had wanted me to get dressed up, you should've told me."

"I told you to be here at 5:30, you couldn't manage that." The blonde quiped back.

"What's the big deal - you don't even like your job." Gilbert changed tactics.

"I don't like my job the way you love your job but that doesn't mean you shouldn't come at the time I asked you to, wearing something appropriate." Feliks was nearly foaming at the mouth.

"Obviously this is more important than you-" Gilbert started but was interupted by the tap-dancing horse upstairs.

"There's my cue," Feliks said, "I'm leaving now, I don't care what you do." The blonde moved toward the door.

"Yeah go, get chased out of your own apartment again." Gilbert sniped.

"What?" Feliks stopped, slowly turning around.

"Better to plan your life around someone else's schedule than have to face them and tell them what you have every right-" Gilbert explained, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"What do you care?" Feliks stalked toward the other man, "What do you care? This is my apartment-"

"You're pathetic, Feliks-"

Feliks pulled off his coat and threw it at Gilbert, "Fuck it, I'll stay right here then."

"Perfect." 

"_You_ can leave." The blonde shot back with a glare.

"Glad to." Gilbert replied, standing up.

"I'm busy tomorrow so forget about the museum." Feliks moved toward the door.

"Yeah, I'm busy too."

Feliks opened the door as Gilbert grabbed his coat. The Prussian stalked out of the door, whipping his coat over his shoulders. Feliks slammed the door after him.

**END CHAPTER**

**AN:** Ahh their first fight, so cute. How does it go from here... you'll just have to wait for the next few chapters.


	12. Chapter 12

**Stop Kiss - Hetalia**

This is based on the play "Stop, Kiss" by Diana Son. The dialouge is pretty much the script, I just added all the action, just like a director would do with a play. I also changed character names and genders.

Poland, Hungary

WARNINGS: Real names, language

Remember that even chapters are the secondary timeline and odd chapters are the primary timeline, when I'm done I'll post a timeline.

**CHAPTER 12**

As hospital waiting rooms go, it was average. The same uncomfortable chairs and old magazines that you'd find anywhere else. In the corner there was a slight woman, with long, dark-brown hair and no-nonsense green eyes. She was currently thumbing through a two-year-old copy of Newsweek. She glanced up when she heard someone enter the room. She smiled politely at the blonde man, not recognizing him immeadiatly. Then it hit her, and she glanced back up.

"His parents?" Feliks asked her.

"Anne and Johan are in there now, yeah." Elizabeta replied.

There's a moment of quiet as the blonde plops down in a chair opposite. "They're strict about that-the hospital. Two at a time." Feliks broke the quiet.

"Noah's ark." Elizabeta said dryly.

"Excuse me?" Feliks said, puzzled by her response.

"Two at a-" She shakes her head a little, "-stupid."

They lapsed back into the awkward silence of two people who's only connection was tentative at best. Feliks tossed through his tired brain for something to say, as he couldn't stand the silence.

"Did you-" he started, "was your flight okay?" Feliks settled on small talk.

"There were like six peanuts in the whole-" The brunette started, sarcasm being her fall back, but she stopped, rubbing a hand over her eyes, "Flight was fine, fine. Thank you."

"His parents, are they-how are they?" Feliks asked.

"Anne is...wrecked, _and_ Jo-they're..." Elizabeta tryed to put it into words, "I mean Gilly's their only child."

"I know."

"They never wanted him to come here-"

"I know."

"The doctor said he can't be moved until he regains conciousness." She told him, a bit blunt, breaking the blond out of his introspectiveness.

"They want to move him?" Feliks asked, scared to lose Gil.

"Mm hm." Elizabeta nodded.

"Back to St. Louis?" Feliks asked, confirming his worst fears.

"To Chesterfield, where Anne and Jo live. It's about twenty minutes outside." Elizabeta elaberated.

Feliks took a moment to digest what he just heard, "But what-what if she doesn't want to do?" He asked, not quite meeting her eyes.

"Why wouldn't he?" She asked, supprised by even the option of Gilbert not returning home.

"Because of the fellowship, he wanted-" Feliks swallowed back the frog in his throat, "He worked so hard to get, and the kids-"

"His old school would take him back in a heartbeat." The woman replied.

"His old school, but he-" Feliks couldn't accept that Gilbert would go back to that posh school.

Elizabeta was horrible at reading emotions and offered, "But-I mean we have no idea when he'll be able to go back to work-or _if._ The doctors can't say. There could be permanent...she'll need rehabilitation, maybe home care-" Elizabeta was a realist and blunt about it.

"I know."

"He needs his family. And they need to take care of him." Elizabeta explained. The silence between them grew, and she realized she needed to do something to help the Polish man. "There was a response."

Feliks looked up from his shoes, thinking he'd misheard, "Excuse me?"

"The doctor. He said Gilly responded to-he told him to squeeze his hand and he...squeezed." Elizabeta explained.

"He did?" Feliks asked, hoping beyond hope.

"Yeah."

"He did!" Feliks cracked a grin for the first time in days

"Fucking A." Elizabeta smiled back.

"Amazing!"

"I thought you'd want to know."

Feliks looks up and meets Elizabeta's eye, "Thank you." Feliks gulped before continuing, "Gil...Gil told me...nice things...about you-so many..." The blonde stumbled over the words.

Elizabeta had the decency to look embarsed, "He didn't tell me anything about you." Feliks dropped his gaze, "He said you were a friend."

Feliks mummbled to his shoes, just loud enough for the woman to hear, "I am his friend."

The brunette cast about for something, "And that you knew good restaraunts to go to-," She glanced toward Feliks, "That's all Gilly told me about you."

"I see."

"Gilly and I-" Elizabeta started.

"He told me." Feliks cut her off.

"We lived together for-" She started again.

"Yes."

"I still-" Elizabeta admitted.

"Yes."

"I'd like-I'd like you to tell me what happened that night." Elizabeta asked queitly. When it became obvious that Feliks wasn't going to answer, she added, "Please."

"I'm sorry." Feliks said.

"What." the woman said.

"I can't."

"Why can't you?" She asked, voice tainted with anger.

"Everything you need to know has been in the papers, on the TV-" Feliks tried to brush her off.

"I've seen the newspapers and the TV."

"Then you know every-"

"No, I don't know everything." Elizabeth hissed at the blonde, "I know what _time_ it happened, I know _where_, and I know that you were there. And now you're here and _Gilly_ is in there. That's the part I want to know about. Why is _he_ in there?"

"I wish it was me but it isn't." Feliks admitted.

"Why isn't it?" Elizabeta demanded, and when she didn't get an answer she adds, "Were _you_ _hurt?_"

"You don't know what fucking happened." He hissed back in her face.

"Tell me!" She ordered, but Feliks turned away, "Why couldn't you protect him?"

"He was big, he was stronger-I tried-" Feliks had tears in his eyes.

"How big?"

"I _tried._"

"Stronger than me?" She forced him around, forced him to face her, "Could I have- Hey, was he stronger than me?"

"No!" Feliks yells in her face.

Elizabeta released him, and took a step back, "Why was he protecting you?"

Feliks met her eyes, letting them talk for him.


	13. Chapter 13

**Stop Kiss - Hetalia**

This is based on the play "Stop, Kiss" by Diana Son. The dialouge is pretty much the script, I just added all the action, just like a director would do with a play. I also changed character names and genders.

Poland, Gilbird

WARNINGS: Real names, language

Remember that even chapters are the secondary timeline and odd chapters are the primary timeline, when I'm done I'll post a timeline.

**CHAPTER 13**

Feliks was in his bedroom just putzing around in his closet when the phone rang. He struggled out of the jungle that was his closet, by the time he emerged his answering machine had picked up. Feliks dashed across the room to snatch up the phone

"Hello?" The only response was the phone's dial tone. The blonde put the phone back on the hanger, but hoverer over the phone as he made a decision. He jerked the handset up again and quickly punches in three numbers before hanging up again. The phone seemed to stare back at him accusingly. He picked it up again and entered seven numbers before hanging up. This time he picked up the phone and set in on the floor in front of the couch.

"Gilbird, please?" He asked, kneeling down to peer under the couch, "Come on, you've known him longer than I have. I'll dial his number for you. Tell him I-tell him I thought about-just tell him to come over." When Gilbird doesn't come out, Feliks grabbed up the phone and snapped, "If you were a dog you'd do it."

The blonde punched seven numbers into his phone, and put the phone to his ear, "Hi Toris, it's me-" Feliks sat on the couch, "what. Did you just call here-why not?" He fiddled with the junk that was on his coffee table, "Yeah, Vong was great. I got the sea bass with cardamom, Gil got the grilled lamb chops with coriander-" A spot on the table caught his eye, "yeah he eats meat, why wouldn't he? I don't know what you're talking about-" A loud grumble issued from Feliks' stomach, "Listen, what are you doing for dinner? 'Cause I just walked by Tomoe and noticed there's no line." Feliks frowned at his friend's response, and whined, "Come on, I totally need a sushi fix." The Lithuanian man gave in, "Allright, if you get there first just tell them-I know you know. Okay 'bye." Feliks pushed the button to end the call and placed the phone back on the floor.

"Okay Gilbird, second chance."


	14. Chapter 14

**Stop Kiss - Hetalia**

This is based on the play "Stop, Kiss" by Diana Son. The dialouge is pretty much the script, I just added all the action, just like a director would do with a play. I also changed character names and genders.

Poland, Prussia

WARNINGS: Real names, language

Remember that even chapters are the secondary timeline and odd chapters are the primary timeline, when I'm done I'll post a timeline.

**AN:** To my loyal reader: Good to see you're back, I had begun to think you stoped reading.

Ch9: I think the reason Feliks doesn't quit is that he's afraid to find a new job, and deep down he really does think it's cool.

Ch11: Yeah the sugary sweet just doesn't fit this pairing, they needed to have a fight. And it's a real relationship not just some fluffy thing. Fe cares about Gil and wants him to look his best, thus the freakout over the clothes. If someone showed up wearing ratty jeans and a tshirt to a fancy event, say a wedding where they're part of the wedding party, you'd freak out too.

Ch12: Yeah, Eli is a little bitchy. But she's stressed from traveling, finding out Gil's in a coma, and all that after he dumps her to move to NYC to be a teacher in the Bronx. I can understand how she feels, 'specially toward Feliks who she blames for Gil being in the hospital.

Ch13: Well Feliks is a little shy. And he doesn't really want to admit he was wrong.

You're gonna love this chapter, and then love/hate chapter 15.

**CHAPTER 14**

Feliks stuck his head in the door to Gilbert's hospital room. Once he saw that he was alone, the blonde walked in and stood next to the bed. He looked down and said conversationally, "They're finished building that building across from your appartment." There wasn't even a twitch from Gilbert, "Wake up now." Feliks said in the same volume.

Feliks looked down at his friend, "Gilbert. Can you hear me?" His green eyes were watery, as he pleaded, "Open your eyes." Gilbert didn't even twitch, "Open your eyes, Gil." When there still wasn't a responce from the Prussian, Feliks couldn't stand to look at the blank face anymore. He turned away, looking at the beeps from the various machines.

"They're gonna start you on physical therapy tomarrow. Just little stuff, range of motion, something to get your blood moving." Feliks glanced around the room, looking for something to distract himself, his eyes caught on the pile of cards, "You've gotten all these cards and letters, I'll read some to you later." The blonde set down the letter he'd picked up, a caught a glimpse of the people out in the waiting room, "You know your parents are here. They're doing their best - I think they're doing okay, considering. You getting better makes them feel better - yeah."

Feliks had gotten his feelings undercontrol and looked back toward Gilbert, "They look at me...your parents look at me... like i'm some dirty old man." Feliks paused to see if there was a responce, none. "And the newspapers, the TV, the radio - my station, my own station, when they ran the news about the attack, they identified me - "Traffic reporter for this station." Now everybody - the guy at the deli - I used to be the blueberry muffin guy, now I'm the gay traffic reporter whose lover got beat up. And I've gotten letters - from two women-their girlfriends were _killed_ during attacks-and they wrote me these heartbreaking letters telling me what they've been through...and they tell me to speak truth to power and I don't know what that means, Gil. Do you? Do you know me?" Feliks leaned over Gilbert to look at his face for any sign. "Do you know who I am?"

As Feliks watched the albino's face, he could see little movements, like ripples from a creature emerging from the deep. As he stared in amazement, two red jewels opened up and met his eyes. "Oh my God. Hi." Feliks choked out before enveloping the other man in a hug.


	15. Chapter 15

**Stop Kiss - Hetalia**

This is based on the play "Stop, Kiss" by Diana Son. The dialouge is pretty much the script, I just added all the action, just like a director would do with a play. I also changed character names and genders.

Poland, Prussia

WARNINGS: Real names, language

Remember that even chapters are the secondary timeline and odd chapters are the primary timeline, when I'm done I'll post a timeline.

**CHAPTER 15**

The evening light poured in the big window in Feliks' appartment. The blonde shuffled from the bed room headed toward the kitchen. He was wearing only a plain white t-shirt and his pink boxer-briefs. As he got to the kitchen, Feliks stretched his neck, wincing as he found a sore spot, and pulled two glasses out of the cabinet. The Pole filled one glass from a bottle he pulled out of the fridge and then downed it as he filled the second one. As he was drinking, Toris appeared from the bed room, wearing jeans and holding his black t-shirt in his hand. The brunette pulled his shirt on as he crossed the room. Feliks handed him the second glass, which he took a sip of.

"Deer park?" Toris asked, eyeing the bottle on the counter.

"You can't tell."

"Tastes like plastic." The Lithuanian complained.

"You want Evian, you buy it."

"Not Evian, Vermont Natural Springs."

"It's Deer Park or Dos Equis, Toris. That's what I've got." Feliks was in a particularly bitchy mood.

"Dos Equis, please." Feliks pulls the requested beer out of the fridge and hands it to his friend.

"You got any snacks?" The brunette asked as he popped the top off of his beer.

Feliks wracked his brain trying to think of what may be habitating in his cabinets, "I think I have some wasabi peas."

"Those _green-"_

"Taste like sushi-" Feliks started to clarify, but Toris caught sight of the clock and interupted him.

"Oh, _sudas._"

"What."

"I have to go." Toris took a swig off of his beer and set it on the table as he went back to the bedroom to get the rest of his clothes.

"Where?" Feliks asked.

"It's someone's birthday at work so a bunch of people are going out to that Japanese tapas place on Ninth Street afterwards, I promised I'd meet them." Toris answered from the bedroom.

"Blow them off." The blonde suggested, leaning against the door frame watching Toris search for his sock, not helping because he didn't want to be alone.

"I can't." Was the response from the taller man, as he fished his sock off of the ceiling fan.

"Come on. We'll go to Aggie's in the morning for breakfast. Banana pancakes." Felik's eyes were wet, as he pleaded with his friend.

Toris walked up to his friend, and placed a hand on the blonde's cheek, "I'm sorry, Feliks. I made these plans before you called."

Feliks pulled away from the hand, moving toward the dining table, "Whose birthday?"

Toris sat in the chair across from the couch and started pulling on his socks and shoes, "This new girl at work. I don't think you've met her."

"Let me guess. She's an actress." Feliks rolled his eyes.

"She's classically trained." Toris tied his shoe, and looked for the other one. Feliks picked up the errant shoe and tossed it at the other man, who luckily caught it just before it beaned him in the head.

"You've gotta get out of the restaurant business, Toris. Broaden your dating pool."

Toris put on the second shoe, ignoring this quip. "I'll call- I'll see you on Wednesday, at Tino's, right? He's having everyone over for dinner."

"Yeah, I put it down." Feliks replied, as the brunette stood up and crossed to the door.

Toris gave the blonde a quick kiss on the lips, "Bye." He then proceded to leave.

Feliks felt like slamming the door on him, but gently closed it so as not to disturb the neighbors. He then moved back to the kitchen, where he spotted Toris' beer on the counter. Feliks grabbed it up and poured it out into the sink. Just as he tossed the bottle in the trash there was a knock at the door.

"I didn't lock it." Feliks called as he picked up the water glass and downed it as well.

"I saw your light on-" A familiar, gravely voice supprised Feliks. The blonde whirled around, subconciously pulling his t-shirt down. Green eyes met red ones.

"I-I'm not-I didn't know it was you." Feliks stumbled over his own words.

Gilbert let his eyes wander down the length of Feliks' legs and back up, with an angry smirk, "I saw him-he didn't notice me."

"Just...just give me a second." Feliks pushed Gilbert gently back out into the hall, and closed the door before rushing to the bedroom. He emerged a moment later wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt. Feliks opened the door to reveal Gilbert again, carrying a bottle of wine.

Gilbert offered the wine like a peace offering, "I think- I think you'll like this kind." The blonde took the bottle and waved the albino in, Gilbert tentatively entered, sitting gingerly on the couch.

"I'll get us some glasses." Feliks stated, moving toward the kitchen.

"You don't have to open it now-it's late, I just wanted to-" Gilbert stood and followed the other man into the kitchen. "Apologize, Feliks." Feliks stopped searching for his corkscrew, peircing the Prussian with an emerald gaze. "You've been so good to me since I came here. I'm embarrassed that I acted, that I said-"

"That I'm a loser?" Feliks spat at him.

"I didn't-" Gilbert sputtered.

"That I'm pathetic."

"You're not pathetic." Gilbert asserted, grabbing the blonde's hands, meeting the hostile green eyes.

Feliks tried to stand his ground but those ruby eyes of Gilbert's just bored strait into his soul and demanded the truth. Feliks broke his gaze, looking down at their hands, "I do, I know-I sometimes...swerve." Feliks removed his hands from Gilbert's and reached into the cabinet for the wine glasses, "I was thinking...you know, when I was little, my parents made me take tennis lessons - I'm not an athlete - neither are my parents, I don't know why-because the lessons were free!" Feliks handed the corkscrew to Gilbert so he could open the wine. "And it was summer, and my parents didn't want me sitting around the house doing nothing, which is what they thought I was doing-which was...true. So, they made me take these lessons, even though I was a klutz. And I tried-but I was a natural klutz." Feliks took the now open bottle from Gilbert. "Still, at the end of the summer we all had to play in these championships and compete against the kids from the other classes. So for the first round, I get pitted against this kid who obviously took tennis lessons because she wanted to be a really good tennis player. I can't even return her serves. The match takes like ten minutes." Feliks poured the wine into the glasses he had found. "Afterwards, my parents can barely speak, they feel so bad. They take me to Dairy Queen, tell me to order whatever I want-I get the triple banana split, and for the rest of the summer they let me sit around and watch _Love Boat_ reruns, which is all I wanted to do anyways." Feliks paused, and took a sip from one of the wine glasses, the other he handed to Gilbert.

"It was a good show." Gilbert replied.

"But lately, I feel like...there's something...worth...winning." Feliks spoke into his wine glass.

"Feliks, I know that neither you nor I have ever-well at least I know that I haven't, I've never really asked-"

"By the way, I did get an award." The blonde inturupted.

"What?" Gilbert was caught off guard by the sudden subject change.

"An award for traffic reporting-who knew?"

"Are you serious?"

"I'm sorry, I interrupted-"

"Did you know?"

"What?"

"You knew you were going to get an award, didn't you?" Gilbert accused.

"I swear I didn't."

"Is that why you were so-"

Feliks stopped him with a glance, "Gil, I could never have known. Trust me." Gilbert couldn't avoid those green eyes.

"Did they call you up on the dias and everything?"

"Just like the Oscars." Feliks chuckled, taking a sip of his wine.

"I wish I had seen." Gilbert placed his hand on the one Feliks had on the counter.

"I wish you'da been there." Feliks flipped his hand over to grasp Gilbert's, they both took a sip of their wine. "You want to see it?"

"Yes!" Gilbert empatically responded.

Feliks moved to shuffle through a pile of papers on the kitchen table, "I thought I stuck it in here."

The albino set down his wine glass on the counter and moved to the couch, "Sometimes I find stuff in here," he whispered. Feeling down behind the cushions, Gilbert's hand finds something vaugely plaque shaped which he pulled out, "I found something."

Feliks plopped the stack of paper back on the table and exclaimed, "There it is!"

Gilbert turned the plaque over in his hands, and read the engraving. He then moved to the bookcase that stood behind the couch, placing it amongst some photographs that he pushed back to make room. "Put it here, okay?"

"Not there." Feliks fluttered behind the taller man.

"Why not?" Gilbert turned to confront the blonde.

"Everyone will see it." A blush flushed Feliks' cheeks.

"Just keep it there." When the green-eyed man reached for the plaque, Gilbert said, "Stop it." Feliks pulled his hand back, but quickly tried to reach over the Prussian's shoulder to get the plaque again. Gilbert swatted the hand down, "I mean it." Feliks pouted but backed up. Gilbert took the plaque down, inspected it and used his shirt tail to polish the fingerprints off of it and placed it back up on the shelf. A rush of pride filled Gilbert's chest as he glanced at the small blonde man who earned this award.

**END CHAPTER**

**AN: ** _sudas _(pron. sh-ooh duhs) = Shit. Lithuanian.


	16. Chapter 16

**Stop Kiss - Hetalia**

This is based on the play "Stop, Kiss" by Diana Son. The dialouge is pretty much the script, I just added all the action, just like a director would do with a play. I also changed character names and genders.

Poland, Prussia

WARNINGS: Real names, language

Remember that even chapters are the secondary timeline and odd chapters are the primary timeline, when I'm done I'll post a timeline.

**CHAPTER 16**

It was midmorning when Feliks ventured back to the hospital. There was a nurse scribbling on Gilbert's chart when Feliks entered. She looked up at the intrusion, and seeing who it was she smiled. Feliks smiled back, but his whole attention was at the white-haired man in the bed. "Any good news?" Felik's asked the nurse.

"He's stable."

"I guess that's good news."

"His bruises are healing." The nurse said, guesturing with the clipboard.

Feliks looked at Gilbert's sleeping face, noting the now yellowing bruises. "Yes."

"Can tell he's a handsome guy."

"Yeah." Feliks brushed some hair off of Gilbert's face.

"He's a schoolteacher?" The nurse asked.

"He is."

"Where?"

"In the Bronx." Feliks looked over at the nurse, "Third grade. He has thirty-five kids. He knew all of their names by the end of the first day." Pride tinged Feliks' voice.

"Takes a lot to be a public school teacher in New York City."

"He's got it."

"Those kids are lucky."

"They know it." Feliks replied smiling at the nurse.

The nurse moved over to the other side of the bed, "I'm gonna give him his bath now."

"Oh, allright." Feliks mummbled, and moved toward the door.

"I'll show you so you can do it." The nurse offered, Feliks stopped. And turned to the nurse, a slight blush on his cheeks.

"Oh-that's very-but I don't think I should, I've never-" Feliks sputtered.

"You've seen the worst of him. Most of his bruises are on his face. His body looks fine. There's nothing to be afraid of." The nurse explained, pushing her wavy blonde hair behind her ear, next to the red bow.

"I don't know if he'd want me to."

"It won't hurt my feelings, you know. I'm sure he'd like it better if you do it."

Feliks thought about her proposition, "...Right now, though, I have to go." Feliks tapped his watch, and turned back to the door. "The time. But...thank you." He flashed a smile at the nurse and then glanced at Gilbert again before leaving.

**END CHAPTER**


	17. Chapter 17

**Stop Kiss - Hetalia**

This is based on the play "Stop, Kiss" by Diana Son. The dialouge is pretty much the script, I just added all the action, just like a director would do with a play. I also changed character names and genders.

Poland, Prussia

WARNINGS: Real names, language

Remember that even chapters are the secondary timeline and odd chapters are the primary timeline, when I'm done I'll post a timeline.

**CHAPTER 17**

They burst into Feliks' appartment. Gilbert's arms were full of grocery bags, while Feliks was juggling his keys, jacket and a bag from a music store.

"Which airport is she flying into?" the blonde tossed over his shoulder as he hung up his coat.

"JFK." Gilbert replied, as he plopped the bags onto the table.

"At eleven in the morning."

"Eleven-thirty." Gilbert confirmed.

"Have the car service pick you up at around ten-thirty, tell them to take the BQE to the LIE to the Van Wyck- that'll get you to the airport by eleven." Feliks advized, trading the bag of CDs for Gilbert's jacket. "But tell the driver to take the Midtown Tunnel back: it'll cost you three-fifty but the Manhattan-bound traffic on the Williamsburg Bridge will be too heavy."

"Check." Gilbert said as he started poking through the CDs. "Do you ever go out dancing?"

"Sometimes I do- my friend Tino goes to this club on Wednesday nights, and sometimes he invites a bunch of us guys to go." Feliks emptied the grocery bag on the counter and sorting them.

"I'd like to go sometime."

Feliks peered over at Gilbert, wondering where the other man was going with this, "sure..."

"Will you let me know next time you go?"

"Yeah..." Feliks loaded up his arms with produce to go to the kitchen.

Gilbert was fidgeting with the CD he'd picked up, "Have you ever...asked someone to dance?"

Feliks tossed the vegitables in the crisper drawer in the fridge, "We kind of stick to each other -us friends. Tino usually knows a bunch of guys there, and I've met them."

"You ever meet a guy there, that seemed..." Gilbert paused, clumsily searching for the right word, "interesting...to you?"

Feliks peered at the back of his friend's head over the door of the fridge, "...No. Not there." Feliks went back to the table, and picked up a box of pasta, "Have you?"

"What?" Gilbert stared at the blonde.

"In St. Louis, do they-or have you been to?"

"We have a couple places like that but I've never been. My friend Antonio says that only college guys go to the clubs and bars; older gays just stay home and read. That's what everyone in St. Louis does, stays home and brews their own beer or does there email." Gilbert explained.

Feliks just stared at the pasta, pretending to read the label, for a moment. "But I mean, have you ever...?"

"Of course, right? I mean, right? I mean I can't imagine any man who's never _felt_ attracted-" Gilbert mumbled down at the CD.

"Right!"

"It's just, I mean if you've never-"

"You want a beer?" Feliks asked, changing the subject to avoid the awkward conversation that was developing.

"Love one."

Feliks headed back to the fridge, "I hope I have some."

"What time is it?" Gilbert asked.

The blonde glanced at the clock on the stove, "Just about six."

"Scheisse."

"What?"

"I promised my roommates I'd clean the appartment by the time they came back from their trip, and they're gonna be home in an hour." Gilbert popped out of the chair and went to get his jacket.

"Just-wait here a couple more minutes."

"I really should go."

"Just wait one minute." Feliks stood infront of the door so that the prussian couldn't leave.

"Why?"

"I wanna...show you something."

"Feliks-"

"Take my watch." The blonde pulled off his watch and handed it over, "What time is it now?"

Gilbert looked at the watch, "Five fifty-nine."

"And how many seconds?"

The albino wondered where the other man was going with this, "Thirty-eight seconds."

"And what day is today?"

"Thursday."

"What time is it now?"

"Five fifty-nine and fifty seconds."

"So count 'em." Feliks demanded.

"What?"

"Count 'em down. Five seconds, four-"

"Four, three, two, one - what?" Gilbert counted it down, and then looked at Feliks wondering if the man was off his rocker. Feliks just pointed up at the ceiling with a smug look on his face. "It's quiet. It's Thursday at six! And it's quiet!" Gilbert grabbed Feilks and hugged him, twirlling the blonde around. They stayed that way until Feliks let go. "I'll call you tomarrow."

"Okay." Feliks replied, a slight blush on his cheeks.

"Um, see ya." Gilbert said as he moved to the door to let himself out.

"Okay. 'Bye." Once Gilbert was gone, Feliks ambled over to the couch, flopped face down into it and screamed into a pillow.

**END CHAPTER**


	18. Chapter 18

**Stop Kiss - Hetalia**

This is based on the play "Stop, Kiss" by Diana Son. The dialouge is pretty much the script, I just added all the action, just like a director would do with a play. I also changed character names and genders.

Poland, Canada

WARNINGS: Real names, language

Remember that even chapters are the secondary timeline and odd chapters are the primary timeline, when I'm done I'll post a timeline.

**CHAPTER 18**

Feliks had passed by this coffee shop thousands of times without even noticing it was there. It exuded a conservative vibe for being in the West Village. It seemed like someone had cloned a Starbucks, dragged it thirty years into the past and left it there to it's own devices. Feliks took a deep breath and walked through the door. Feliks looked over the crowd of hipsters who were just there to be ironic, and spotted the only man who looked like he belonged in the place.

"Mr. Williams?" Feliks called.

A blond head popped up from the newspaper he was reading, a single curl boucing out in front of his face, "Yes."

The Pole pushed his way back towards wear the other man was seated. Feliks instinctivly checked out what the other man was wearing. A sweater that looked like it belonged on someones' grandmother, seemed rather out of place for a young man who looked like he was in his late twenties. Feliks mentally shook his head, and extended his hand, "I'm sorry I'm late. I came straight-"

Matthew shaked his hand, and interupted him in a fit of politeness, "It's fine, it's fine. I don't have to meet my wife until eight." Feliks slid into the empty chair on the opposite side of the table, "Should we order something? Coffee or tea?"

"Coffee would be great." There were dark circles under the emerald eyes.

"How are you doing?" Matthew had picked up on the exhaustion that oozed out of Feliks despite the Pole's efforts to suppress it.

"I'm okay." It was a automatic response to a question that was usually asked out of politeness.

The other man's bright blue eyes quickly evaluated Feliks' condition. Once a nurse always a nurse, even if you didn't work anymore. Matthew came to the conclusion that Feliks' probably knew his limits better than he did, but raised an eyebrow and asked, "Yeah?"

Feliks didn't meet the blue eyes that were reading his face without stareing, "I want ot thank you for..." Feliks ran a hand through his unusally messy hair and swallowed the knot that had developed in his throat, "what you did, Mr. Williams."

"I only did what I should've." Matthew's inate modesty caused a jab of irritation in Feliks' gut.

"Not everybody-" Feliks started but trickled off, realizing it was futile to argue that point with the man on the other side of the table.

"How's your boyfriend?" Matthew's carring nature had kicked in again.

"Gilbert-he's better." Feliks had started when he heard Gilbert refered to as his boyfriend, it wasn't something he had really thought was possible. He had fantasised about it naturally, but it was so strange to hear it from a stranger. "Alert and responding. We just have to wait and see what kind of effect. How much and what."

"I read in the paper he's from Kansas or something."

"St. Louis. Missouri." Feliks corrected, wondering where Kansas came from for a moment. Then his knowledge of geography came back to him, "Kansas City is in Missouri, but Gil's from St. Louis."

"I'm from outside Winnipeg myself, although I've been here for ten years." Suddenly, the politeness made sense to Feliks, the meek man opposite of him was Canadian, and from the Mid-West to boot. "When I moved here I would smile at strangers on the subway, give quarters to beggers on the street."

"Gilbert gives a dollar." Feliks had a small smile on his face.

"So I can imagine what it must've seemed like to him. Small-town boy in the big city-seeing men dressed as women, women holding hands-must've seemed like a gay paradise to him."

Feliks couldn't quite bring himself to explain that Gilbert wasn't gay. He cast about for something to say, "St. Louis is not a small town." It was lame, but it was the only thing he came up with.

Matthew may seem like an airhead most of the time, but he was good at reading moods, even if he was soft spoken. He tactfully changed the subject, aiming for something safer, "What hospital is he at?"

"St. Vincent's."

"How are the doctors there? Are you pleased with them?"

"It's hard to say." Feliks took a breath so he could figure out how to say what he meant, "You want them to do everything-you just want them to make him better. But they do what they can. I think they're okay." It sounded lame to Feliks but Matthew was nodding his head in understanding.

"I know they have limited visiting hours, but a situation like this, they must let you stay all day."

"I have to go to my job-" Feliks didn't want to seem like he was always hovering over Gilbert and thus derelict in his responsibilties.

"Of course. Of course you do." Matthew thought that if it was a loved one of his in the hospital he'd be there 24/7 despite work, and couldn't quite understand anyone doing anything else.

"But I do visit every day." Feliks excused, wondering why he cared what this man thought of him.

"It must be exhausting for you."

"Well, his family's here-"

"Are you close with them?"

"No..." Feliks wondered how he was gonna explain the situation, "Not close."

"I know what it's like with in-laws. It took years before mine..." Matthew trickled off, noting the wierd face that Feliks was making. "Have you and Gilbert been together long?"

"Um...no."

"Oh, I'm sorry I thought you two were-"

"I know."

"Here I've been going on and on as if-"

"Yes, you were." Feliks was tired and he became super bitchy when he was tired.

"So you're not really-"

Feliks stood up and grabbed his bag, "No, like I said I go there every-"

"But you're not really involved."

Feliks knew he didn't have to defend himself to the blue-eyed man, and just walked out of the cafe. Matthew just sat there confused, his assumptions once again landed his foot in his mouth. But he didn't know how to react to the revalation that his happy little fantasy wasn't.

**END CHAPTER**

**AN:** I realize that Matthew's inlaws include Felik's ex (Russia) and they could've met before. But let us assume that Ivan isn't the type to introduce his partners to his family, even if they're living in his uncle's appartment. Or that Ukraine wasn't talking to her brother for some reason while he was dating Feliks.


	19. Chapter 19

**Stop Kiss - Hetalia**

This is based on the play "Stop, Kiss" by Diana Son. The dialouge is pretty much the script, I just added all the action, just like a director would do with a play. I also changed character names and genders.

Poland, Lithuania, Prussia

WARNINGS: Real names, language

Remember that even chapters are the secondary timeline and odd chapters are the primary timeline, when I'm done I'll post a timeline.

**CHAPTER 19**

It was your average evening, Toris was wearing jeans and a plain white shirt, something like a mix of casual and work clothes. He was trying to decide wheather or not to tuck in his shirt in front of the full length mirror Feliks had propped up next to the bedroom door. The brunette had just decided to wear his shirt untucked and was pulling it out of his waistband. Feliks posed in the doorway, he was wearing a red dress that hugged curves that he'd created.

Toris glanced at his friend, "I'm a little strapped 'cause business was slow last night."

"Just don't worry about it." Feliks leaned against the door frame.

"I brought fifty bucks."

"That'll get you a salad." Feliks chuckled.

That startled the Lithuanian, he glanced over at the blonde, "How expensive is this place?"

"Expensive."

"Why do we have to go to a place like that?" Toris complained, ever the skinflint, as he straitened his shirt, "Why can't we just go to Benny's Burritos and drink a bunch of margaritas."

"I _told_ you, I'm gonna pay for the whole thing, so stop stressing about it." Seeing that Toris was done with the mirror, Feliks pushed him out of the way to check himself.

"Okay Mr Traffic Reporter of the Universe or whatever you are, I'm gonna get the lobster." Toris wasn't one to give up a free meal and had decided to push it as far as he could.

Feliks knew what his friend was up to and provided him with an even better option, "They have venison." The brunette closed his eyes in pleasure at the thought of a excessive dinner. Feliks turned to his friend, "Does this dress make me look fat?"

"I _can_ not, _will_ not, _ever_ answer that question." Toris answered solomnly as he went to sit down on the couch.

"I'm changing." Feliks announced and headed back to the bedroom.

"What are you so uptight about?"

"I'm not uptight." Feliks called from his closet.

"That's the third time you've changed." Toris retorted, "Who is this person anyway?"

"Gil's ex."

"Why do you need to look so good for her?"

The blonde re-emerged from the bedroom, this time dressed in a pink plaid skirt and a button up shirt. "It's a nice restaurant." Feliks started tweeking his outfit in front of the mirror.

"Are the others gonna be dressed up? You told me I could wear jeans." Toris accused.

"Because I knew you'd wear jeans anyways." Green eyes flashed as Feliks glanced at Toris in the mirror.

Toris got up and wrapped his arms around the blondes waist. Feliks pulled away, "So how wans the birthday party the other night?" Feliks' voice was cold.

"Fine."

"Did the birthday girl get everything she asked for?" Feliks was trying to sound calm, but there was still ice in his voice.

"You want to talk about this?"

"No."

"Cool." Toris returned to his seat on the couch and Feliks turned back to the mirror. The blonde was trying to decide what accessories to wear, but there was still a thought eating at his mind.

"Did you fuck her before or after midnight?"

"Nice."

"I'm just wondering about the technicality-" Feliks started to explain himself.

"Listen, I'm not like you and that guy-" The brunette interupted him.

"Who?"

"Who was that guy with the nose ring that you-" Toris was teasing his friend.

"Hey-"

"In the bathroom of the-"

"Hey-"

"With no protection."

Thankfully Feliks was saved by the door buzzer, he pushed the button and asked Toris, "I told you _that?"_

"I asked." Toris shrugged.

"We should start keeping more to ourselves."

"Too late."

"Don't say that." 

"Why not?"

"Makes me feel old." Feliks complained.

"We are old."

"You are." Feliks shot back at his friend just as a knock came on the door, the blonde opened it and Gilbert entered, obviously alone. Feliks took a moment to look down the hall which was conspicously empty. "...hi."

"Hey, how's it going." Toris greeted the newcomer from the couch.

"Hi." Gilbert said in an uncharacteristicly small voice.

"Where's Elizabeta?" The Polish man asked of his new friend.

"She...uh, left." Gilbert answered and looked at Feliks, "You look beautiful. You too, Toris."

"She left New York?"

"Yeah, she changed her flight. She left a couple of hours ago. I told her to tell the driver to take the Van Wyck." Gilbert elaberated, he soulded like he needed a drink.

"Something happen at work?" Feliks asked, concerned for his friend.

"No it- I asked her to leave."

Feliks moved closer to Gilbert, as if to hug him, "Oh, um-" The blonde glanced at Toris, who was watching the other two, so Feliks stopped short of hugging the white haired man, "Listen, we don't have to go out-"

"Yeah, no, if you're upset-" Toris chimed in as well.

"No, it's fine, I want to go out. I want to get to know Toris." Gilbert protested.

"Are you-did something happen-" Feliks glanced at the Lithuanian again, wishing he wasn't there. "I mean, you don't have to-" Toris stood up and placed himself behind Feliks, placing his hands on the blonde's shoulders. Feliks glanced down at them like two dead toads dropped onto his shoulders.

Gilbert sighed and ran his hand through his hair, "She was being so-she was criticizing everything. 'Your apartment's too small. It's in a bad neighborhood. Your school is dangerous. It's too far away.' All she could talk about was how dirty and dangerous everything is."

"...Well" Feliks didn't know quite how to put ot.

"It _is_." Toris said.

"What?" Gilbert burst out, "Compared to St. Louis? I don't want to live there. I've started something here, and I - that's what-because it's...I love...New York!"

"Let's go eat." Feliks said.

"Are you sure?" Toris asked Gilbert.

"Yeah."

"Great! Let's go!" The brunette opened the door for Gilbert, then looked back to see that Feliks was lingering in the appartment still.

"I'll catch up with you." Feliks explained.

"Okay," On the way out, Toris told Gilbert, "They have venison you know."

"You mean Bambi?"

As the door closed behind the other two, Feliks moved over to the coffee table, where the Magic 8 Ball sat. He picked it up and gave it a shake, he turned it over. The answer made him smile. He set the ball down gently on the couch so the answer wasn't disterbed. He moved back to the door to catch up to his friends.


	20. Chapter 20

**Stop Kiss - Hetalia**

This is based on the play "Stop, Kiss" by Diana Son. The dialouge is pretty much the script, I just added all the action, just like a director would do with a play. I also changed character names and genders.

Prussia, Hungary, Poland, Belgium

WARNINGS: Real names, language

Remember that even chapters are the secondary timeline and odd chapters are the primary timeline, when I'm done I'll post a timeline.

**CHAPTER 20**

Gilbert was sitting in a wheelchair, stareing out the window, not really seeing the view. Elizaveta was in the chair next to him, reading from a book.

"'And then ninety-eight kilometers' -that's sixty-one miles- 'north of Wilcannia is a lunar landscape.' That looks lunar, doesn't it?" She held the book over so Gilbert could look at the picture, he didn't glance at it, she didn't notice, "'Some of the locals don't mind showing off the interiors of their white-walled subterranean settlements' -You'll want to sign up early for _that_ tour, gonna be a regular Who concert trying to-" She glanced at the non-responsive man next to her, cleared her throat and continued, "As I was saying, 'Looping around about one hundred and sixty kilometers' -that's a hundred miles to you and me- 'a road leads to Mootwingee, a surprising patch of greenness in the barren Bynguano-' Australia _is_ an English-speaking country, isn't it?" The brunette lady fingered through the rest of the book, and rubbed her fatigued eyes, "You know, I'm dying to see how this ends but can we-"

Gilbert nodded slightly. Elizaveta streched and set down the book on the table next to the flowers and cards that now adorned most of the flat surfaces in the room. Her eyes caught on a particular card, "Did you see this?" She picked it up and handed it to her ex, it was a handmade card from his old students, "You got a card from your old class at Friends." Pointing to a couple of signatures, "See, there's Peter and Vash and Romano-your favorite, the anti-Christ. He writes, 'I hope you feel bitter and come bark soon.' I see your replacement is letting his spelling skills slip." Gilbert tentatively took the card. While the couple were looking at the card, Feliks started into the room but halted when he saw the familiar way the other two were. The blonde backed up and watched from outside.

Elizaveta continued, obviously speaking of friends back in St. Louis, "I've been talking to Feliciano and Ludwig a lot, keeping them updated. Feliciano's been letting everyone know what's going on. Roderich's called- it's frustrating for them not to be able to see you. They picture the worst, all they have are the images in their heads from reading the newspaper articles. It'll be better for them when they can see you." Elizaveta stood and streched, bracing herself for broching a new, hard topic. Gilbert senced what he was going to say, his parents had been talking about it all week. They thought he hadn't heard their whisperings but he had. "The doctor says we can move you soon. Your parents and I have been talking. I agree that you should stay with them after you get out of rehab. You're welcome to stay at our old place, of course, if you want to, I would take off from work so that I could-well, I'm going to take off from work anyway." She paused to let the idea stick, "Just because you're coming back home I'm not going to be the way it was. I know you went to New York because you wanted to change things." The brunette leaned down, placed her hand on Gilbert's cheek, "You do want to go home- don't you?" Gilbert couldn't help the feeling of dread that hit him in the pit of his stomach; tears leaked out of his eyes at the thought of leaving New York.

Feliks had watched all of this, with his own dread building. He made a choice, and turned on his heal. The blonde marched over to the Nurses' Station, finding the nurse that had helped him a few days earlier, "Excuse me."

The nurse looked up from the chart she'd been scribling in, recognizing the man standing in front of her, "You're back."

"Do you have time now? To show me how to do it?" Feliks' asked, his green eyes flashing with determination.


	21. Chapter 21

**Stop Kiss - Hetalia**

This is based on the play "Stop, Kiss" by Diana Son. The dialouge is pretty much the script, I just added all the action, just like a director would do with a play. I also changed character names and genders.

Prussia, Poland

WARNINGS: Real names, language

Remember that even chapters are the secondary timeline and odd chapters are the primary timeline, when I'm done I'll post a timeline.

**CHAPTER 21**

Feliks and Gilbert entered the appartment; Feliks pulled off his jacket, tossing it on the table as Gilbert flipped the switch for the lights.

"Uugggh, I'm so full, it hurts to move." Feliks stretched, "What do you want to do, we could watch a movie if you-"

"Let's uh..." Gilbert interupted his blonde friend, "let's go out, let's go somewhere." The need to be active just rolled off the Prussian man, after all he hadn't even removed his jacket."

"Where do you want to go?" Feliks asked as he leaned against the back of the couch.

"There's a bar." Gilbert was uncharacteristically nervous as he asked, "In the West Village. Henrietta's, you ever been?"

"Once." Feliks quirked an eyebrow, Henrietta's was a notorious gay bar, not exactly the place he'd expect Gilbert to suggest.

"Will you go with me?"

Feliks looked down at his outfit, his pink plaid skirt didn't exactly leave his sexual orientation in question, "Like this?"

"We could change." Gilbert caught the blonde's feeling of trepidation, but miss-read it as concern for Feliks' own appearance rather than what people would say of Gilbert, "Friday night, it's supposed to be a good night."

"Okay. Good for what?"

"There's supposed to be a lot of people there."

Feliks nodded, it was Friday night there should be tons of people in the bars, but he didn't realize what that really meant, "Okay, let's go."

"You change, and then we can stop by my place, and then we'll go." Gilbert's face now hosted a smirk for the ages, glad that his plans were working out.

Feliks hadn't moved from where he lounged, "We don't-you can borrow some of my clothes." He offered, trying to streamline their plans.

"Really?" Gilbert was startled by the thought of wear the blonde's clothes, slowly he warmed to the idea and his smirk came back, "That's _great_." They stood there, neither one of them making a move towards the bedroom. "You go ahead and change and I'll...change next. I'll wear whatever's next." Gilbert offered.

Feliks hadn't quite decided if he really needed to change or not and slowly pushed off the couch, "I'll go change."

"Maybe we'll like it there-" Gilbert stated, a wash of doubt had hit him.

Feliks suddenly thought that Gilbert looked like a lost puppy, "Yeah, okay." He reasured his friend.

"Let's just-"

"We'll go, we'll hang out, have a drink." Feliks asserted, not letting the Prussian back out now, it was his suggestion after all.

"Yes! You know, maybe meet people." Gilbert perked up.

Feliks pierced his friend with a startled glance, "Are you-I mean, do you...want to _meet_ people?" It was a loaded question, but Feliks didn't care, he hadn't realized that Gilbert was like that.

"Yes!-" Gilbert exclaimed and Feliks' face sunk in disapointment, seeing this the silver-haired man quickly backpeddled, "No! I want to meet people to-meet people maybe make friends, but, no, I don't want to meet _someone_, some stranger-" He finally realized what Feliks thought he had meant.

"We'll just go."

"It's just a bar."

"With a bunch of gays in it." Feliks didn't know if Gilbert knew that gay bars weren't like normal bars.

Gilbert closed the gap between the two of them, "And us," he said quietly. Green eyes rose to meet red. They both just stood there hoping the other would make a move.


	22. Chapter 22

**Stop Kiss - Hetalia**

This is based on the play "Stop, Kiss" by Diana Son. The dialouge is pretty much the script, I just added all the action, just like a director would do with a play. I also changed character names and genders.

Prussia, Poland

WARNINGS: Real names, language

Remember that even chapters are the secondary timeline and odd chapters are the primary timeline, when I'm done I'll post a timeline.

**CHAPTER 22**

Gilbert was sitting in his wheelchair, once again stareing out his hospital room window. He was just letting the view engulf his mind so he wouldn't have to think. He was so absorbed in his meditation that he didn't notice when Feliks entered. The blonde was carrying a small dufflebag slung over his shoulder. Feliks called so as not to startle the other man too much, "Gil." The Prussian jumped alittle and turned his chair to face his visitor. Gilbert's eyes smiled when he saw who it was.

Feliks set his bag on the foot of the bed, "I brought you stuff to change into," he said as he unzipped the bag and pulled some clothes out. The Pole set the clothes on his friend's lap, "We're gonna do this. Watch me. You gotta listen to me too," he explained. Feliks went behind Gilbert inorder to undo the man's gown, "Okay, we're gonna start with the left side because we're taking things off. And now the right." Gilbert was now sitting without a shirt on, though his legs were still covered by the gown. Feliks reached down, picking up the shirt that he had chosen, a dark green button-up number, "Nice shirt, huh? Did I pick out a nice shirt for you? Okay, you're gonna need to sit up a little for me." Gilbert sat up so that the blonde could slide the shirt behind his back after they got the right sleeve on. Feliks reached awkwardly around the other man, trying to get the shirt in the right place without losing the first sleeve and thus making the whole opperation more dificult, "If I can just-" Gilbert's face turned into a grimace, "-am I hurting you? I'm sorry, Gil - I'm sorry-" Feliks took a breath and rubbed his neck, forcing himself to relax and then held out the left sleeve for Gilbert, "This one you can do." Gilbert started forcing his arm down the tube of fabric, "Push-Push-keep breathing, and push-" The moment Gilbert's fingers emerged from the sleave, Feliks said, "It's a girl," trying to keep the mood light, and then bent over to button up the shirt, "Let's keep you warm. It's cold in this place."

Feliks took a moment to breath after getting his friend half dressed, the next part would be more difficult as anyone who had tried to put on pants while sitting knew well. Feliks had thoughtfully packed a pair of sweats so neither of them would have to deal with flys, zippers and buttons. He now picked them up off of Gilbert's lap, kneeling in front of the chair, and lifted the man's right foot off the footrest, "We're gonna do this together. I'll do this one," Feliks jiggled the foot he held lightly, "That one you can do." Gilbert tryed to lift his left leg but it spasmed and he couldn't hold it up for more than the time it takes to blink, "Oh-Oh. Okay. Okay." Feliks paniced for the briefest of moments, then pulled himself together, he was the only one here now so he'd have to face it. He flipped both of the foot pads up, then scrunched up the right leg of the pants and wrangled it on over the foot. "We gotta work together on this one, okay?" The blonde set his hand on Gilbert's left leg to illustrate and then scrunched up the left pant leg. Gilbert lifted his leg, it still shook but not as bad as before, "Are you helping me?" Feliks glanced up at the other man's face in suprise, noting the look of determination on the Prussian's face, "Yes. You are." The blonde quickly slid the pant leg on and pushed the pants up as far as he could before Gilbert's strength gave out.

"Now, the shoes go last." Feliks stood and fished a pair of easy slip-on shoes out of the bag. "Like this." Feliks slid the man's right foot into the shoe, he then set the other shoe on the floor. Gilbert slid his foot in the remaining shoe, "And like that." Feliks grinned up at the red eyes that were peering back at him in pride. Feliks pushed Gilbert's feet closer to him and then stood up, "Now you're gonna stand up." He caught the look of worry that passed over those usually so confident eyes, "I'm gonna help." Feliks placed his hands under Gilbert's arms, "One, two, three-" Feliks lifted the other man, startled at how light he'd gotten in the hospital. He got Gilbert balanced and pulled up the man's pants and the gently set him back into the chair.

Feliks looked into his friend's eyes, "I can do this, you see?" Gilbert slowly nodded. "Choose me," Feliks' voice just a hair from pleading. He couldn't even think of his friend leaving him. Gilbert's red eyes caught his green ones and then the silver-haired man smiled, his first in the hospital. It wasn't his usuall cock-sure smirk, but a true heartfelt smile that brought warmth to Feliks. Overcome with emotion, Feliks suddenly but gently hugged his friend.


	23. Chapter 23

**Stop Kiss - Hetalia**

This is based on the play "Stop, Kiss" by Diana Son. The dialouge is pretty much the script, I just added all the action, just like a director would do with a play. I also changed character names and genders.

Prussia, Poland

WARNINGS: Real names, language

Remember that even chapters are the secondary timeline and odd chapters are the primary timeline, when I'm done I'll post a timeline.

**CHAPTER 23**

The New York street was oddly barren of human life. It was 4am but this was New York, the city that never sleeps. Well, it was empty until Feliks and Gilbert turned a corner onto it, just leaving Henrietta's.

"What was I thinking?" Gilbert asked his friend.

"That was like-going to a birthday party when you don't know the person whose birthday it is." Feliks offered, the bar had been awkward to say the least.

"I don't know why I was expecting...I don't know what I was expecting." Gilbert ran a hand through his hair, tustling the silver locks. "What time is it?"

Feliks glanced at his watch, "Around four."

"So late." 

"Should we go...go somewhere-" Feliks stuttered, suddenly awkward, "where do you want to go?"

The Prussian man hadn't thought that far when he suggested they leave the bar, "I don't know-"

"Let's just..." Feliks felt oddly shy, "keep walking." He just wanted to enjoy the company, not wanting to worry about anything else.

"Sure." The pair walked about half of a block in silence.

"How do you eat corn on the cob. Around the world or typewriter style?" Feliks asked, breaking the silence and picking up their game of wierd facts.

"Typewriter." Gilbert stated, suppressing a laugh.

"Me too." 

"What kind of person eats around the world?"

"I don't know."

"I mean, what is that based on? You read left to right, right?" Gilbert asked, logic dictating.

"I do."

"So you should eat your corn that way too."

Feilks pondered that a moment, "Do you think in Egypt they eat right to left?"

"I don't know."

"Fascinating question, though." It also emplyed that they posibly ate corn around the world style in Japan, and other places where they read top to bottom.

As they turned another corner, it was Gilbert's turn to ask a question. On the other side of the street there was a line of people waiting to get into a night club, "Do you wait _in_ line or _on_ line?"

"Oh. Now I wait on line. But I used to wait in." Feliks answered, it was wierd quirk of New York lingo.

"But physically, you're _in_ a line, not _on_ one, right?" Gilbert asserted.

"Yeah, stick by your guns. I caved in."

"You say on. I say in." Gilbert stated.

Thinking about caving gave the blonde a boost of confidence and he caved to one of his desires, "What about this?" He took Gilbert's face in his hands and planted a firm kiss right on his lips. Barely a moment later, they pulled apart.

"Huh." Gilbert looked poleaxed, he hadn't been expecting that, at least not tonight.

"What?" Feliks' cheeks were flushed with embaresment.

"You just did that." It wasn't a question nor a rejection, Gilbert was just trying to figure out what happened.

"Yes I did." Green eyes held a mix of bashfullness and confidence that was emensly sexy to Gilbert.

"Awesome." This time Gilbert slid his hands up to cup Feliks' cheeks, and he leaned in to kiss him again. But this time they angled their heads the same way and bumbed noses.

"Whoop-"

"Sorry-"

Feliks dropped his hands down and wrapped his arms around Gilbert's waist, pulling the other man close to him. There was a bit of resistance before Gilbert let himself be pulled in, "Do you think we should-"

Fierce green eyes caught red ones, Feliks' voice had dropped down into a register that Gilbert hadn't heard before and shot pleasure right though him, "I don't want to go anywhere, I don't want to change anything. Let's just-"

"Okay." Was the only word Gilbert's mind could come up with.

"Try again." Feliks rummbled, before he closed the short gap, placing his lips on the Prussians. It was a kiss for the ages, one for the history books, Gilbert thought for a split second before allowing himself to be swept up into it.


	24. Chapter Guide

**Chronological Order**

Chapter 1

3

5

7

9

11

13

15

17

19 Day -1, 8pm

21 Day -1, 10pm

23 Day 0, 4am, night of the attack

2 6am

4 10am

6 11am

8 1030pm

10 Day 1, 10am

12

14

16

18

20

22


End file.
